Mania
by ddp456
Summary: Wendy takes the twins to a showing of her favorite pro wrestling promotion, and Dipper is unimpressed, finding it to be boring and unrealistic. But when calamity strikes and the little hero is called to task, he'll soon learn that not everything is what it seems in the world of sports entertainment. Thanks to Codylabs for the cover art. Thanks for reading!
1. Chapter 1

*KA-BOOM!*

A neon fireball raced down from the ceiling, providing the only source of light throughout the darkened arena. It exploded into a literal shower of pyrotechnics; its noisy finish was evenly matched by the thunderous roar of the surrounding audience.

*KA-BOOM!* *KA-BOOM!* *KA-BOOM!*

Three more blasts trailed downwards, each adding to the multi-colored fountain stemming on the stage entrance. Dozens of stage lights beamed on, giving sight to the thousands that traveled near and far for tonight's event. A mounted fifty-foot video monitor instantly sprung to life, displaying a circling shot of the countless fans waiting for the action to begin.

The state-of-the-art surround speakers started to boom, as the evening's commentators opened the show:

 _"Welcome one and all, to the greatest display of Sports Entertainment today!"_

The camera focused on a kindly, middle aged man dressed in black sitting at a plain wooden table covered in a cheap tablecloth. He tilted his beige cowboy towards the viewer as a sign of respect before adjusting his thick coke-bottle-rimmed spectacles.

 _"This is ol' trustworthy Chuck Andersen, joining you on another exciting Oregon Championship Wrestling event…"_

The shot panned outwards, revealed that he was joined by a fellow broadcaster. Unlike his partner, this slightly older gentleman was dressed in more comedic garb, with a shiny metal crown on top of his head, and his shorten body draped in royal purple.

 _"And as always, I am partnered with former OCW superstar, Hoss "The Mad Tyrant" Taylor…"_

The faded wrestling icon offered a gentle wave to the gathering behind him.

 _"I tell you what, Hoss. We are in for a heck of a night, aren't we?"_

 _"You betcha, CA! All of the OCW's shining stars are here and waiting to battle it out for all that precious, precious gold!"_

 _"Darn straight, Ty! Every championship belt is on the line tonight; you have the Lightweight, Cruiserweight, US Title, US TV Title, Hardcore, European, Canadian, French-Canadian…"_ The announcer took another deep breath, _"…Smoky Mountain, Ohio Valley, Women's, and Heavyweight up for the taking!"_

 _"Is that all? Phew, what a mouthful!"_

 _"And don't forget! OCW will proudly present a never-before-seen style of match as our main event. No hints to be given, I'm afraid. The way to find out what it is exactly is to park your keister, meister, and stay tuned!"_

*R-RING – RING – RING!*

 _"And there's the bell, CA! Our first match is slated to begin…right now!"_

 _"Here comes our first contender!"_

As the contest began, the sea of rowdy Oregonians cheered and booed the vying competitors displaying their awesome skills. Amongst them, in the upper-right bleachers, a young, green flannel-donning ginger cupped her hands against her mouth as she roared alongside her much-smaller charge.

"YYYEEEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!" Wendy Corduroy screamed at the top of her lungs. "KICK HIS SCRAWNY-BUTT!"

"WWWHHHOOOOO!" Mabel Pines stood on her seat to try to match her friend's height and followed suit, "WHAT SHE SAID!"

The girls laughed out loud as they collapsed back into their seats.

"This is so awesome!" Wendy exclaimed with pure excitement. "I didn't think we'd be able to get tickets in time."

"You're telling me…" Mabel sat back and used her palms to level her head as she stared deeply at the two muscular athletes duking it out in the center of the squared circle. "This…is…a lot better than I'd thought it'd be…"

The redhead smiled and shook her head. She lightly slapped her co-worker's arm to regain her attention. "Don't get me wrong, Mabes. _That_ is awfully nice to see, too, but this show – this place is so much more than that."

"Huh?" The love-struck tween awoke from her spell and sat up. "Whatdya mean by that?"

The fifteen-year-old used her arms to highlight the thousands of fellow fans, "I mean, there's a reason they call this the "OCW Universe.""

"I'm still not following you…"

"Like, you have all these people here for a variety of different reasons…" Wendy's green eyes scanned the arena for a split second. She pointed down towards the front row, where a set of drunken men howled as they held up colorful posters made of crepe paper. "For example, those lame-os down there are what you'd call " _marks_."

"Marks?"

"Yep. _A mark is someone who believes that everything that happens in wrestling is one-hundred percent real._ "

Mabel began to ask, "You mean, there are people pathetic enough not to know any better?"

"Oh, you bet." Wendy went on. "Of course, not everything is completely fake, like when they take certain shots, or when a cool-looking stunt suddenly goes horribly wrong. Even then, these guys are pretty good when it comes to not breaking kayfabe."

"Breaking kay-what?"

" _Kayfabe_." Wendy repeated. "Like, how those two fighting in the ring don't really hate each other. Heck, just check their social media, and you'll probably see them hanging out together."

"Ohh, that's kinda sweet…"

She moved her finger towards the other end of the ringside. "Now, do you see those serious-looking dorks sitting calmly on the other end?"

"Yeah…"

"Those are probably a group of " _smarts." Smarts are fans that not only know the results are scripted, but go as far as to find out all of the spoilers from magazines and websites to ruin the surprises for themselves."_

"Well, that's no fun…"

"Tell me about it." Wendy lamented. "These guys think it's cute to try to wreck things for everyone else. Though to be fair, sometimes, smarts are those that work behind the scenes with the crew. They even sit in the audience to try to sway the crowd a certain way to help make the show flow better."

"Oh! So, they're planted out there to make things look more real…"

"You got it, munchkin."

Mabel paused for a moment as a confused expression appeared on her face, "But Wendy, what would that make _us_?"

"Hmm…" The lumberjane rolled her eyes as she thought. "Well, I guess that would make us _smarks_ – _fans who know the truth, but go and enjoy the story anyways."_

"And the hot-looking guys…"

Wendy laughed, "And the good-looking dudes don't hurt things, either." She sat back in her seat as she continued with her impromptu history lesson, "You see, a lot of those hardcore fans are still sore about something that happened when my dad was a kid."

"What happened?"

"Back then, there wasn't one big wrestling group. Instead, they were split into different territories, where they each had their own superstars and big-shots. But, as the years went on, one man bought them all up, and rebranded it under a single nation-wide, corporate-based company."

Wendy leaned forward and used her fingers as air quotes, "He decided to make everything "family-friendly," tone down the "excessive violence and action," and called the shots on what wrestlers were to be "buried…"

"Buried?!" Mabel's eyes grew wide. "You mean, he buried them alive?!"

"Nah, silly." Wendy gave her a gentle love-tap on her shoulder. " _Buried_ " _means that he purposely made some wrestlers look stupid or ridiculous, so they wouldn't be as popular with the fans_. Rumor has it that he liked to do this to a lot of the older fighters to get them out of the limelight or especially those that once belonged to a rival company, as a form of prolonged punishment."

"Whoa…" Mabel was blown away by Wendy's story. "Their boss sounds really mean…"

"Well," The redhead sunk back down. "That's Victor Leopold _Macallan for you. A genius businessman and mastermind to some, and to others, he's said to be_ _the devil himself…"_

 _"_ _BAH!"_

"Oh, he speaks!" Wendy's attention turned towards her partner in crime, who had remained silent until that very moment. Dipper Pines ducked down into his chair as he crossed his arms and pouted. His face was twisted into an annoyed and somewhat bored appearance.

"So, how are you diggin' things, buddy?" His not-so-secret crush patted his front as she flashed a smile. "Are you getting into the action?"

Dipper threw out his arm, "Are you kidding? _This is the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life!"_

"I know, right, I – " Wendy's face instantly fell, "Wait, what?"

He continued on, using his hand as a highlight, "I mean, look at this! You got two no-mind muscle-heads trying to beat themselves up for absolutely no reason whatsoever! And I say "trying," because I can see how phony their punches and kicks are even from all the way up here in the nosebleeds!"

The teenager was taken aback by all of her friend's negativity. "Well, Dip. Keep in mind, the first couple of matches kinda stink because of all the jobbers and – "

"- I'll bet the so-called superstars are even worse! A bunch of fake wannabe athletes that are stuck in this place because they couldn't cut it in real sports." Dipper slid down further as he used a fist to hold up his wary head, "I tell you, Wendy. _Someone would have to be completely brain-dead to enjoy this utter nonsense!"_

"Wow…" Unbeknownst to her admirer, the copper-haired tomboy sat back down with a shattered heart. She stared forward, not as much as blinking her eyes as she struggled to find the right words. "I – I'm sorry, Dip – I didn't know you – "

After trailing off, Wendy remained motionless as she gathered her thoughts. After a moment of quiet reflection, the lanky girl stood up and stretched her limbs. As Mabel watched the scene play out in silent awe, Wendy bent down and whispered, "Hey, Mabel? I'm – I'm going to go for a walk to clear my head. Y'know, get some snacks. Or maybe try to sneak in back to get an autograph or two."

Her eyes glanced towards Dipper as he remained unaware in his own little world. "I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

Mabel nodded, understanding that a little bit of space could ease the current tension. As soon as Wendy disappeared from sight, the pint-sized matchmaker hopped into Wendy's seat, so that she was now next to her twin. She picked up a fallen program from the floor, rolled it into a tight bundle, and cracked it into the back of her dozing brother's head.

*WHAM!*

"OWWWWW!" Dipper came back to full attention as he grabbed his sore spot. He turned towards his sister. "Mabel? Why – What do you think you're doing?!"

The tiny defender refused to back down, poking Dipper's stomach with the still-wrapped newspaper. "What do _you_ think _you're_ doing, Dipper? You totally broke Wendy's heart with your smarty-smart mouth!"

"I – What?" He sat up erect in his seat. "I didn't – "

"Oh, no?" Mabel demanded as she curled her fists against her hips. "Is that why she just stormed outta here?"

"I thought she went to get more food?

Mabel's disbelief grew with every passing second. "What the – Dipper. Didn't you hear anything of what Wendy was saying a few minutes ago?"

The embarrassed detective slumped back into his chair. "I – well, I was sorta zoning in and out…" He gave an unnerved look. "Besides, Mabel, I'm sure Wendy isn't bothered in the slightest. It's like when we rip on those old crappy movies during our movie nights."

The metal-mouthed pixie dropped onto her seat in exhaustion and started to give her sibling the cold shoulder. "Jeez, Dipper. You're such a _mark_ for yourself!"

"I'm a _what_?!" He shook off his confusion and began to argue his case. "Mabel, I – so I don't like this garbage. Big deal! Just because I love – I mean, I feel the way I do about Wendy doesn't mean I have to like every single thing that she does."

"And that's okay, Dipper," Mabel tried to reach him one last time. "Just like I'm sure that there's tons of super-boring things that you drag Wendy through – "

"Hey, hang on a sec!" Dipper protested. "I show Wendy nothing but the coolest stuff!"

"Oh, yeah, Dipper," she said. "I'm sure it's every girl's lifelong dream to go out in the deep, dark woods and collect spores for countless hours – "

"Ah, ah, ah!" He held up a finger in correction. "They were _ancient alien_ spores…"

"That's not the point! Wendy puts up with such malarkey because _it's important to you!_ So, when she worked her freckled butt off to share this with us, what did you do? You not only told Wendy how much you hated this, but you went on to say how dense she was for liking it in the first place!"

Dipper was struck somber by his sister's argument. "…whoa…" He lowered his head in shame as he inched the edge of his seat. "I – I really screwed up, didn't I?"

"Yeah, dummy." Mabel concluded. "You really did. Thanks for finally joining the rest of us."

He began to twist his hands as his natural nervousness took over. Dipper looked at Mabel out of the corner of his eye. "W-W-What should I do now?"

"Hmm…" The self-proclaimed matchmaker held her index finger against her dimpled cheek. "Well, normally, I'd say to make it up to Wendy with flowers and chocolate, but considering where we are…" She opened her arms to highlight the surrounding arena. "…I'd say to bribe your way back into her good graces with tons of junk food."

"Lots of food…" Dipper nodded as he rose to his feet. "Got it…"

"You know the stuff." Mabel added. "Popcorn, nachos, maybe one of those pepperoni-and-anchovy pizzas that she loves so much. And lots of soda pop!"

"Yeah, yeah…" He walked past his twin as his mind raced at the horrid possibilities. "I gotta – gotta find her…"

Mabel called after Dipper as he walked down the stairway leading back to the outer arena. "Good luck, Romeo! You're gonna need it!"

Once she was all alone, the small pre-teen shook her head in disbelief, "Oh, those two lovebirds. What would they do without me looking out for them?"

Her sights soon focused on a beefy, oiled-up wrestler, flexing and posing in the center of the ring as the second match was about to begin.

"But in the meantime…" She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and her palms holding her head steady. "I might as well enjoy the show…"

* * *

"Gotdangit!"

*BLAM!*"

Deep within a hideaway office in the back of an arena, a middle-aged manager violently slammed his fists against his fancy, high-quality, handcrafted wooden desk as his assistant watched on. The growing stress forced the businessman to readjust his tightening collar, and patted down the creases chasing up on his custom made, Italian darkened suit. His silver hair reflected the lighting beaming down from overhead.

With his anger managed, the man threw his hand towards the countless bundles of paper before him. "Just look at these numbers! The house take is down! The Pay-Per-Views are down! And even the Network's numbers are down! Every month, they only sink further and further into the red!"

"Well, what do you expect?" The booker commented, pushing his thinning brown hair away from his forehead. "Look at what all the dirtrags and websites say about us. That we're getting old and stale!" He bent down further, making sure not to ruin his yellow-canary suit as he met his boss's gaze. "I'm telling you, the only way we can get ourselves out of this mess is if we go back to the way things used to be – "

The elder replied in a calm voice, knowing that his cohort only had the best of intentions, "We've been over this, pally. _The business has changed_. It isn't just us on our own nowadays. We have sponsors we have to answer to, and – "

*KNOCK – KNOCK!*

A security guard tapped his knuckles on the partially-opened door. "Hey, boss?"

"What?!"

"We – We had a situation in the back…"

"Huh? What kind of "situation?""

The officer stepped to the side, leaving the doorway open. With a nod, two more guards brought a much smaller teenage girl into the room with her arms held behind her back as she kicked and squirmed in protest. "Hey! Let me go! I told you! I didn't mean to go backstage! I just got lost on the way to the bathroom!"

The manager's eyes lit up upon seeing the feisty ginger dressed in lumberjack gear, "What in the world?"

His associate chuckled, adjusting his glasses, and whispered into his administrator's ear, "Maybe it's one of the "rats" getting too crazy in the locker room?"

He swiped him away, "Don't be naïve. It's only some kid."

"I said, let me – " Wendy stopped struggling as she finally spotted the two men on the other side of the room. "Wait, I know you. _You're – You're Victor_ _Macallan! You're the creator of the OCW!"_

"That's correct, young lady…"

Her eyes moved to the other man, _"And you're…_ _Russell B. Cornfed, the brilliant wrestling booker and the most infamous tag-team manager in history!"_

"In history, eh?" Russell stroked his chin. "I think I like her already, Vic."

Vic Macallan remained somewhat stern in his mannerisms. "What's the story with this one, chief?"

One of the guards holding Wendy in place began to explain, "We caught her trying to sneak into the back and score herself some autographs. When we tried to accost her, she took down two guards before we were able to secure her."

"This little thing?!" Cornfed pointed at Wendy. "Heck, I don't know if we should sign her or get ourselves some new security guys…"

"Corny…" Vic held a hand up towards him. He folded his hands together and placed them on the desk. "Well, miss. You seem to know who we are, but I haven't the slightest idea to whom you are…"

"Well, my name is W – "

"But I can already tell who you are." Macallan interrupted. "How's about " _spending-the-weekend-in-juvie-for-breaking-into-private-property_ " sound?"

Wendy's mouth dropped, "Wait, I didn't – "

"But that might seem too harsh; even by my standards." A devilish grin slowly began to form. "And it's more than obvious that you are a fan, so let's try " _banned from all OCW events for life!_ ""

"No!" Wendy squirmed, making the security guards tighten their grip on her. "Look, I know – I know I screwed up royally, but let me explain! Please?!"

The two men looked at each other for a split second. Macallan slowly offered his arm towards the chair in front of his desk. "Okay, then. Let it not be said that I'm not a fair man."

The guards released Wendy, as she stumbled forward. With all possible exits blocked by beefy lookouts, the girl had no choice but to accept the offer. Once seated, she remained on edge, and let out a huge exhale.

"You have one minute."

"Okay…okay…" Wendy patted her jeaned knees as attempted to explain herself. "You're right. I am a fan of OCW. A huge fan. Been ever since I was little kid and used to watch you guys on TV with my dad and little brothers. So, when I heard OCW was coming to town for the first time in years, I was ecstatic!"

She took a breath, as they hung on her every word. "In fact, I used the last of my savings to grab some tickets not just for me, but a couple of my buds as well. I thought that they would love this stuff the same way I do, but instead – my one friend – _my boy that I'm super close with_ – told me that they hated it – that the show was nothing but fake and phony."

"You see, Vic?" Cornfed exclaimed. "From the mouths of babes!"

He lurched forward and rested his cleft chin on his fingertips, "Let her finish…"

Wendy's demeanor grew grim as she told the rest, "…And even worse, he pretty much said that I was a moron for liking it as well…" She looked up to meet Macallan eye-to-eye. "So, I admit it. I acted out. I tried to sneak into the locker room to meet the guys. I mean, I know they're the real deal, and to be honest, I don't know what I was thinking. It's just…"

Her head fell as she mumbled, "It's just…I wish that I had a way to show my little guy how awesome you guys really are; that he could see things the way I do…" Wendy looked upwards, "So, that's it. If you still wanna ban me forever, I totally get it…"

Vic Macallan resumed his prim and proper posture, "Well, that certainly was an interesting tale, missy. And if I may say, it is somewhat…inspiring."

"It's what?!" Wendy and Cornfed said at the same time.

"It's what you were suggesting earlier, Corny. The problem with wrestling today isn't that we need to take it back to the extreme. It's that people don't believe that we're real anymore."

The somewhat-built owner stood up and began to pace behind his desk with his arms crossed behind his back. "When I first started this company decades ago, our motto used to be "where anything can happen." Now, look at us. The damned internet and reporters know our next move before we make it public! How would anyone expect us to convince the harshest of skeptics otherwise?"

"That he is, Vic." Wendy agreed. "That he is."

He stopped in place. "It's _Mr. Macallan_ to you, missy."

"Oops, sorry…"

"As I was saying. What we need tonight is a surprise that'll floor everyone here. Have them talking about this event for weeks! Just imagine the replays on the Network, yet alone the home video sales alone."

Cornfed's face turned a shade of red. "Wait, tonight? Vic, we can't make changes – "

The leader threw his fist on his desk again, making Wendy flinch slightly. "Dammit! Don't tell me what I can or can't do! This is my damn company with my damn wrestlers on my damn show, so I'll do what I damn well please, dammit!"

Russell knew better than to argue. He simply held his hands up and took a step back.

"Okay, then…" Wendy went to stand up. "It sounds like you two have a million details to work out, so I'll see myself out…" She didn't notice that the two guards were standing behind her. They each grabbed a shoulder and pushed her back down into her seat. "Hey! Watch it!"

"Oh," Vic wagged a finger at her as he returned to his fancy-leather chair, "Don't think you're getting off the hook that easy, my dear – pardon me, but I didn't catch the name…"

"Wendy…" she admitted. "But come on! Isn't there anything I can do to get outta this?"

The two entrepreneurs shared another glance before Vic asked, " _Anything_ , you say?"

"Yeah, man." The high-schooler relented. "If it'll get me out of this mess, all you have to do is name it."

Cornfed covered his mouth as he chuckled lightly. Macallan placed his elbows on the desk and moved closer to the unsuspecting intruder.

"Well, then." He fiddled his fingers together as he presented a Cheshire grin, " _Perhaps we can make some_ _sort of deal_ …"

* * *

"Alright…" Dipper carefully moved between the rows of seats as the leaning tower of junk food in his hands blocked the majority of his sight. "We got popcorn, peanuts, nachos with extra cheese and jalapenos, a personal pizza with tons of pepperoni, and three extra-large Pitt Colas…"

He sat down, proud that a single ounce hadn't spilled under his watch, and let out a sigh of relief. His sister hastily took a soda from his grasp. "That's good and all - *SLURP!* - but aren't you forgetting something important?"

"Huh?" The boy carefully set the food down. "Well, to be honest, when I asked for anchovies, the pizza guy swore at me, and told me to "git.""

"No, doofus! Wendy!" Mabel said. "Didn't you find Wendy?"

"Find Wendy?!" With his sights cleared, Dipper looked to his left and saw that his secret love's seat was still empty. "Wait, you mean she never came back?"

"You were supposed to look for her, remember?"

"I did, Mabel! I really did." Dipper replied. "But I couldn't find her anywhere out there. I thought she might have come back here."

"No…" Mabel shook her head as scooted back and placed the gigantic soda between her legs. "I hope she's okay…"

With those words muttered, another layer of guilt was added onto Dipper's psyche. He wondered if this was another instance in which his big mouth had gotten him into a world of trouble.

"HA!" He forced out a quiet, nervous laugh. "Of – Of course she's fine. T-T-This is Wendy we're talking about here. We – We haven't the slightest to worry about…" The following sixty seconds without his favorite cashier at his side felt like an eternity. The boils in Dipper's stomach swiftly grew to a prickly feeling that traveled along his skin.

With that, Dipper stood back up, and tried to play it out as nonchalant. "You know that, on second thought, maybe I'll take one last look around…"

Just as he was about to leave, Dipper noticed something going on in the ring below. He raised an eyebrow as countless maintenance men and women were tirelessly building several different structures in and around the main stage.

"Whoa…" He overlooked the strange display. "What's going on down there?"

"Oh, that…" Mabel muffled through a mouth filled with popcorn. "The show's on intermission. They said something about setting up for the main event later tonight."

"Huh…"

The chaotic scene looked as if someone was trying to build a pseudo-building all around the ring. A metal scaffold had been placed on opposite sides of the squared circle. Reaching upwards to over twenty-five feet in the air, the inquisitive boy noticed that there weren't any ladders to climb upon.

Strangely enough, three layers of legless wooden tables held in mid-air beneath the scaffolding platform by heavy-duty steel cabling. Each level consisted of three individual tables tied together from metal railing to metal railing.

In the center of the ring, there were three sets of industrial-sized ladders reaching towards the first set of bound-together tables, hinting at being the only way of accessing them. Across from them, a iron-cast holding chair had been placed in each corner, just below the individual turnbuckle.

Most curious of all, Dipper noted, was that there was a silver metallic ladder on top of the scaffold's platform, reaching out to open air.

A chill raced down Dipper's spine by simply looking at the towering piece of twisted metal and faded chipped wood. He clutched his shoulders, "Ohh! I'd hate to meet the poor sucker that has to climb that thing!"

His thoughts were interrupted by the slight buzzing growing from the speakers that had been placed around the arena:

 _"And we're back! And wowwy-wow, CA! Just look at that thing!"_

 _"Wow isn't even close to the word I'm looking for, Ty. A horrifying thirty foot monstrosity towering over us and the worst part is that it's not even done yet!"_

 _"It's not what?!"_

*WHRRL!*

From the very top of the arena, a four-sided steel cage was lowered down for the world to see. Dozens of workers stood on the scaffold's platform and began to secure it in place above it. Within seconds, the attachment was preciously lined with the ladder protruding from the platform's middle.

 _"And now, ladies and gentlemen, the OCW is proud to present in its entirely for the first time ever: the Triple Decker!"_

 _"Triple Decker? Ah, gee, CA. That name gets me in the mood for some old-fashion hamburgers!"_

 _"There'll be time for that later, Ty. This is the idea, folks. Our selected few will begin their journey in the ring, using one of the many ladders given to make their way upwards to the swaying chain of tables hanging overhead. But they'll have to beware. Their opponents have open access to the four folding chairs placed in the stage to aid in preventing their ascension._

 _"Tables, ladders, and chairs? Oh my!"_

 _"Oh my, indeed, Hoss. But we're not finished yet. From there, our brave soul has to manage their footing as they climb upwards towards the scaffold's center using the numerous rows of tables dangling from those cords."_

 _"I don't like the looks of that, CA. Those lines could snap at any moment…"_

 _"It's not the wiring I worry about, Ty. It's the tables themselves. All it would take is one good body slam and any one of those can snap in two, sending whoever's on it tumbling to the floor below!"_

*GULP!* " _Now, I really wish you haven't said that…"_

 _"But if someone can make it to the halfway point, they'll have a chance in narrowing the walkway and make it to the ladder leading to the steel cage. Now, Ty, it's important to mention that this is the only way to transverse to the cage as it can be electrified at any given time."_

 _"You heard CA, you bums. No cheating, or else – ZZZZZZ!"_

 _"Finally, if our lucky duck can make it to the door of the steel cage and make it to its center, then they win the grand prize!"_

 _"CA, you make it sound so easy…"_

 _"'Fraid not, Ty. 'Fraid not…"_

Dipper turned away from the spectacle and scoffed, "Man, this place gets weirder and weirder by the minute! I gotta find Wendy…" He turned away from the sight and headed back towards the staircase leading away from the stand.

 _"What the – something's happening up there!"_

 _"Is that a walkway?! CA, a new walkway appeared from the rafters!"_

 _"Somebody! Get a camera up there, stat!"_

As Dipper walked away, the massive video screen above his head attempted to focus on the commotion happening fifty feet in the air. Upon seeing the now-clear image, Mabel spit out her soda in shock, and immediately gave chase after her brother.

"Dipper! Dipper, wait!"

The unsuspecting pre-teen couldn't hear her cries due to the clamoring crowd all around him. Just before he reached the exit, Dipper felt himself yanked back by his collar.

*ACK!* "What the – Mabel?"

"Dipper! You gotta – " She bent over to try to catch her breath.

He turned around, "Mabel, I just told you I'll be right back. I'm going to look for Wendy again."

"That's…the…thing…" Mabel grabbed her twin's head and forced it upwards. "Look!"

Dipper squint his eyes as the rest of the arena watched the events unfolded alongside him. "What the - ?"

The screen clearly showed that a tall, slender person with flowing red hair and dressed in lumberjack gear being dragged from the highest point in the arena down the gangway by two burly security guards dressed in navy blue uniforms.

 _"Is that – is that a girl?"_

 _"I think it is, CA. Do you have any idea what's going on? This isn't anywhere on my format schedules?"_

 _"Same here, Ty. I guess we'll have to wait and see…"_

Despite her best efforts, the girl was easily overpowered by her captors. They twisted her arms behind her back and literally lifted her off her kicking booted feet. The three shortly made their way from the walkway onto the cage's foothold. One of the guards briefly left their prisoner's side to open the cage's door.

With a stern push, she was sent flying into the cage. The girl tripped and landed hard on her jeaned knees. With a single bound, she hopped back into her feet and rushed towards the now-shut door. She jiggled the handle, finding that it wouldn't respond.

 _"Uh-oh! Looks like she's in there good…"_

 _"Hey, camera-crew! I think she's trying to say something! Move in closer!"_

From the given height, her shrieks sounded only like a distant echo. With the aid of the TV technology, her voice was made audible, as well as her true identity finally confirmed.

Mabel gasped and covered her mouth with her sweater sleeves, "Ohmigosh!"

Dipper didn't as much as blink as he went on staring at the appalling image before him. His mouth slowly fell as one word came staggering outward:

 _"Wendy!"_

The enraged ginger gripped the bars of her cell with both hands and shook them violently as the security officers disappeared from view. The temporary gangway that bought her into the trap was slowly pulled back, leaving Wendy stranded in mid-air.

"LEMME OUTTA HERE! I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS! THIS WASN'T PART OF THE DEAL!"

 _"Who is this mysterious young lady? Why was she locked into the cell hoisted nearly a hundred feet in the air? And what deal is she talking about?"_

 _"I'm not sure, CA. But I have a feeling we'll be finding out shortly…right after these important messages from our sponsors!"_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey, all. Ddp456 here._

 _I know this update was a long time coming, and I apologize for that. To be honest, I rewrote this piece several times to try to find the correct tone I wanted to express. Similar to how I try to perfect my thoughts and feelings on the video game universe when writing the "Birthday Rumble" series, I attempted to do so with this story and the spirit of the pro wrestling of yesteryear._

 _So, again, forgive this wait, and if it happens, any future ones as I work my hardest to bring you the best story possible. Thank you all for waiting, and let me know how you dig the tale below. Enjoy!_

* * *

 _"Welcome back, ladies and gents!"_

 _"And just in the nick of time, too!"_

 _"For those just tuning in, this is your ol' friend, Chuck Anderson, joined at ringside by my long-time broadcasting partner, Hoss "The Mad Tyrant" Taylor. And before us, folks, is a definite head-scratcher, I tell you what."_

 _"No kidding, CA! It was only minutes ago, that our much-appreciated OCW crew team unveiled the newest attraction to the OCW universe: the Triple Decker!_

 _Our selected roster of fine athletes would have to transverse past a gauntlet of tables, ladders, and chairs – "_

 _"Oh my!"_

 _"We know, Ty – only to make their way into the narrowing path of a scaffolding nearly 50 feet in the air! And at road's end, they climb one last ladder leading into a steel cage, where only the first arrival will be declared the winner!"_

 _"At least that was the plan for tonight! OCW security arrived on the scene, dragging along an unknown redheaded girl dressed in flannel. They locked that pretty little thing into the steel cage, leaving her trapped and stranded at the top of this arena!"_

 _"And now our mysterious guest is pacing up and down the confines of her cell, testing every square inch for a chance for escape, and shouting her lungs out for the world to hear."_

 _"I'm going to go out on a limb, CA, and guess by her expression, that it's a good thing that the audience is too far down to make out what's she sayin'."_

 _"Well, you know the old expression, Ty: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Stay with us as the Mad Tyrant and I try to get to the bottom of this development…"_

"WENDY!"

As soon as Dipper's brown eyes spotted his favorite cashier in distress, pure instinct took over. He bolted down the walkway leading towards the balcony as Mabel called out, "Dipper! Wait a second!"

Rhyme or reason no longer mattered. Dipper's goal was made crystal clear. He had to get to Wendy as soon as humanly possible. Upon reaching the balcony's edge, the twelve year old peered over to see hundreds of confused fans whispering and murmuring amongst themselves along the 20 foot drop.

Sensibility was able to reclaim him as Dipper took a careless step onto the railing. He wouldn't be use to anyone if he injured himself. Defeated, he slapped the balcony's railing with both palms, and dashed towards the back of the arena. Dipper had no other choice but to make his descent to the ground level floor by floor.

"Dipper! Wait!" Exhausted, Mabel used the edge's railing as a rest stop as she watched her twin disappear from insight. She wheezed heavily, trying to catch her breath. "Oh…sure…now…you're-you're…worried…about…her…"

Suddenly, the arena's speakers began to play a sordid, low-key rock theme; a tune similar to that celebrating a villain's arrival. A moment later, a silver-haired, middle-aged businessman strutted from the ramp beneath the monstrous video screen and towards the ring as he was showered with boos and jeers.

 _"Finally, CA! The boss has arrived to lift the curtain on this situation! If anyone can get to the bottom of things, he can!"_

 _"Hey, Ty. I think you got a little something on your nose. Some kind of brown stain?"_

 _"I do? Well, give me a sec to – oh, real cute, CA."_

The man mockingly brushed the insults off his dark-grey, tight-fitting suit as a smirk stretched across his wrinkled face. He jogged up the metal staircase and lifted the upper rope to step into the ring.

 _"There he is, ladies and gentlemen: the sole owner of the OCW. I haven't a clue to what's going on, but one thing's for certain. If_ _Macallan's involved in any capacity – "_

 _"_ _That's Mr. Macallan to you, CA! As in the same Mr. Macallan that signs our checks each and every week. Show some respect, or else, don't be surprised to find yourself in the unemployment line next payday!"_

 _"_ _Oh, brother…"_

Vic Macallan reached into his jacket's pocket and produced a wireless microphone. He held up inches away from his lips, replying sarcastically to the audience, "And a fine "how-do-you-do" to all of you as well…"

The taunts from the crowd grew even louder.

Unaffected, the promoter went on with his presentation, "I might be grasping at straws, but I suppose you lot are wondering about what's happening…" He simply lifted a single index finger towards the sky. "…all the way up there." Macallan turned towards the other end of the crowd. "Well, I believe I can shed some much-needed light on the matter."

 _"_ _Well, it's about darn time!"_

 _"_ _Quiet, CA! The boss is talking! I wanna hear this!"_

Vic began to explain, "The young lady up there is just like you – a lifelong OCW fan, who was eager to see all of her favorite OCW superstars live. But perhaps, she was a little too enthusiastic in doing so. During our brief intermission, this mischief maker thought it would be wise to sneak into the locker room to try to ask for autographs, when she was accosted by security and brought before me."

Despite their hatred for the performer, the audience's reaction had quelled, as the thousands of listeners hung on his every word.

Macallan held a hand crossing his heart, "And because you all know me as a kind and forgiving man, I gave our gawky trespasser a choice: be sent off to juvenile hall for the weekend, and face a lifelong ban from all future OCW events…"

The spectators hissed and jeered in response _._

"Or, as our friend above us wisely chose, to accept one of my "gracious" deals…"

The audience groaned upon hearing Wendy's outcome.

 _"Oh, that poor thing! But Mr._ _Macallan said that she was a fan. How could that girl not know that making a deal with Vic Macallan is like making a deal with Satan himself?"_

 _"_ _Hey, don't you go feeling sorry for her, CA! That kid did it to herself! You heard Mr. Macallan – she's a deviant, and needs to be dealt with accordingly!"_

"And now…" The administrator's smile grew deeper. "She'll pay the price for her crimes. And that is why I made sure that all of you can bear witness to her fate. Let this serve as a reminder to what happens to those who dare to cross me in any way. I now own this useless criminal – "

He spun around in a circle and pointed towards the crowd as his voice became hoarse, "Just like I own each and every one of you worthless piss-ant hicks!"

The horde exploded into screams and threats towards the administrator.

"*GULP*! _Oh, boy…"_

 _"What's the matter, Ty? Are you getting a guilty conscience?"_

 _"You know me, CA. I don't have a conscience to be guilty with. But something did come to mind."_

 _"And what's that?"_

 _"I think I know what Mr._ _Macallan has in mind for our teenaged culprit up there…"_

 _"_ _Really? Pray tell."_

 _"_ _Do you remember what I said about what happens to cheaters on the outside of the steel cage?"_

 _"_ _Yeah. "ZZZZZZZZZZZ!" So what?"_

 _"_ _Well, what do you think happens to someone inside of that cage if the electrical current is switched on?"_

 _"_ _Oh! Well, oh, boy, indeed!"_

As the audience somewhat calmed, Vic Macallan could make out a sound coming from above him. He looked up to see Wendy on her elbows and knees on the floor of the cage. She cupped her hands over her mouth as she shouted downwards. Her captor sardonically held up his microphone as far as his arm could reach, enabling her message to be barely held:

"GIMME OUT OF THIS THING RIGHT NOW! YOU NEVER SAID A DAMN THING ABOUT STICKING ME UP HERE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Vic laughed, "But, my dear. I just did. And perhaps you should watch your potty mouth. You're already in enough trouble as it is. Maybe next time, you'll take a few moments to read the fine print of a contract…"

His attention shifted as he could sense a growing commotion in the gathering in front of him. From the back of the standing room area, a small line began to part as people were rudely pushed or shoved to the side. As the separation grew closer, Macallan saw that the intrusion came in the form of a pint-sized brown-haired boy wearing a white and blue pine tree trucker hat. The elder could easily see the pure determination on the child's face as he hurried towards the guard rails stationed outside of the ring.

 _"_ _I can't believe it…"_ He thought _._ _"_ _It's just as she said…"_

"WENDY! HANG ON! I'M ALMOST THERE!" Dipper hopped over the central rail and became caught up by his vest. A nearby security guard had grabbed him in mid-air.

"Hey!" The detective squirmed for freedom. "Let go!"

"What do you think you're doing, kid?" The officer tightened his hold. "You got a death wish or something?"

"No! You don't understand! That's my girlf- I mean, my friend – I mean, _my Wendy_ up there!"

Dipper felt another pair of hands tugging on his back pockets. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mabel trying to pull him back over the rail.

"Dipper!" She pleaded. "This is crazy! You can't go up there!"

""But I have to do something!" He answered. I can't leave Wendy stuck up there like that!"

"Kid," the guard yanked Dipper even harder, sending Mabel along for the ride. "The only place your little butt is going is outta this arena! Now, c'mon!"

Between being caught in the tug of war and having the chants of the crowd blaring in his ears, Dipper felt as if he was losing his mind. Just then, a solid, yet silent tone broke through the madness, restoring the world to a temporary clarity:

"Let that boy pass…"

"Huh?!" Dipper raised his head to see that the strange man in the ring was pointing directly at him.

The lookout found himself just as stunned, "But – But, sir…"

Vic Macallan's voice echoed into the mic, "I said let him go, dammit!"

A second later, Dipper and Mabel were set down into the matted area surrounding the squared circle. The boy looked around to see that the horde had quiet down in uncertainty. Strangely enough, a thin, paled-faced man with glasses sporting an OCW office shirt sped up towards him, making Dipper flinch.

The worker dropped to one knee and clipped a wireless device on his shirt and hurrying away from the scene. Before he had a chance to examine the pin, Dipper was called upon once more:

"Well, what are you waiting for? A written invitation? Get on with it!"

Finding himself lost in hesitation, Dipper gazed towards the top of the arena to see Wendy staring down at him. A thin, brave smile had appeared on her freckled face – the first that had happened since her re-appearance. With his courage renewed, the small rescuer nodded and walked towards the metal staircase.

"Wait up! I'm coming, too!" Mabel followed suit after Dipper as the guard's arm swooped down and block her passage. "Hey! What gives?!"

"Sorry, miss." The patrol apologized, keeping his sights on the events in front of him. "But the boss said only the boy was allowed further. You're more than welcomed to stay here and watch the show."

"Hmph!" The sweater-donning cutie crossed her arms and pouted, "Well, that's just great!"

Dipper took careful step onto careful step up the steel stairway. As he went to slide his body under the middle rope, his foot tripped over the lower beam, making him tumble clumsily into the ring. The speakers of the arena gave a short screech, making everyone in the arena mince in discomfort.

He hopped back up, and dusted himself off, noticing that the newly-acquired pin had been knocked slightly.

 _"Oh, I get it! It's a wireless microphone!"_

Taking care to avoid the towering ladders stationed in the ring, Dipper slowly approached the master of ceremonies that had granted him passage. He cleared his throat, a level of nervousness rose as the small vocal matter were now aired lived via the speakers set up throughout the stadium.

"Um, hello, I guess…"

Vic Macallan remained still, silently analyzing the new arrival from head to toe.

"This may sound really silly, but I'm – "

Before Dipper could finish, Vic raised his mic, "Oh, I already know who you are…"

"You – You do?"

Macallan nodded and lowered himself to Dipper's level, "That's right." His sinister grin stretched further, " _You're the one that thinks we're fake_ …"

Dipper's face immediately turned ghost-white, "I – what?"

The advocate resumed his prim-and-proper stance, "It's true, esteemed members of our OCW universe. The child standing here is nothing more than a hardened skeptic – someone who believes himself better than you, me, and every single person in this entire arena!"

As a roar began in the heart of the crowd, Dipper tried to defend himself, "That's not exactly – "

Vic cut him off, opening a gentle arm towards him. "Someone who sticks his stubby red nose up at our time-honored traditions, and looks down on each and every one of you for being loving and loyal OCW fans to the end – that thinks you to be brain-dead morons for doing so!"

His own words coming back to haunt him, Dipper trembled in dread as he found himself surrounded by countless angered souls howling for his blood.

Macallan dug even deeper, "But it doesn't stop there. In fact, this know-it-all is to blame for the happenings above us. This wretched creature just-so-happens to be a loved one of the young woman in the cage over our heads – heaven only knows why. And with the little bit of money she had, our friend wanted nothing more to share with him the wonderful experience that the OCW can provide…"

The almost-manic crowd gave a cheap pop of applause at the mere name drop.

Playing off the range of emotions, the middle-aged man shot back. "…only to have this ingrate throw the thoughtful gift back in her face, and lump her in with the rest of us pitiful, ignorant fools!"

The new eruption of heckles and ridicules became deafening, with each vibration pounding through Dipper's temples like a jackhammer. With nowhere else to turn, the cornered pariah looked towards the sky, finding Wendy watching his every move with a hint of sorrow in her expression. Dipper returned the stare; their eyes able to communicate in ways that mere words could not.

"Is it any wonder…" Vic Macallan held the audience in the palm of his hand. "That our lady friend was driven to a life of crime, considering the emotional abuse she had to endure by this spoiled brat?"

 _"You see, CA? I always knew it couldn't have been that girl's fault! She's an innocent bystander dragged down by the dopey-looking company she keeps!"_

 _"Flip-flop much, Ty? Two minutes ago, you wanted her to be fried-up like my mama's homemade chicken wings!"_

 _"Me? Wanting to injure a kind-heart like that? I would never!"_

 _"Sure. Sure. It's not like we have you on tape saying so or nothin'…"_

"To be fair…" Dipper tried to counter, "Wendy has been getting into trouble way before we – "

"BOOOOOOO!"

The audience drowned out the rest of Dipper's sentence.

"You see, people?" Vic went back to egging on the masses. "Even when faced with the truth, he refuses to accept responsibility for his actions and the consequences that follow!"

Dipper's head throbbed even harder as the noise attacked him from every possible angle. He turned around, finding himself surrounded by an endless amount of blurred mocking faces, before being met by the leering façade of the devious mastermind. Dipper glanced up at Wendy once more; the sight of her in peril added to his guilt.

A large amount of pressure was building within his shorten frame, making it appear as if all aspects of the world was unfairly gaining up on him. Dipper closed his eyes, clenching his teeth as he tried to shut out everything and find a calming center. With the last of his patience worn thin, the enraged boy exploded out loud, making his off-key voice echo throughout the stadium:

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Every being in the dome froze in their tracks.

"Okay, fine!" Dipper confessed at long last, throwing his arms into the air. "It's my fault, alright! I admit it! I'm sorry I hurt Wendy's feelings! I shouldn't have said the things I said! It was stupid and careless, and she deserves better!"

He heard Mabel call out from ringside, "You should apologize for making her go spore-hunting, too!"

"And I'm sorry about the spore-hunting, too! Jeez!"

Unbeknownst to Dipper, a small beam appeared on Wendy's face as she watched her little hero go into a rant of his own.

"But with that being said," Dipper pointed directly at Macallan. "That doesn't change a single thing about how I feel about all this stuff! Everything in this place is as phony as that awful hairpiece stapled to the top of your head!"

Macallan challenged him, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really!" Dipper stepped closer, his bravery increasing by the second. "You should be ashamed for trying to pass this crap off as real. And worse of all, you sucker these people into believing it to be so. But hey, you're the owner, right? Why should you care as long as you're making a profit off their backs?"

"OOOOOHHHH!"

" _Uh oh! I think junior's about to bite off more than he can chew…"_

 _"Hush, CA! I wanna hear Mr. Macallan tear into his skinny little keister!"_

"Now," Dipper sighed as his nerves started to settle. "I've had all I can stand of this place. If you and everybody else here want to go on playing pretend, that's more than cool. The only thing I want is to take Wendy and go home…"

Despite appearing impressed by the boy's moxy, Vic adjusted his collar and cleared his throat. "I'm afraid there's just one problem with that, sport…" He reached into the breast of his finely-pressed jacket and retrieved a thick, yet folded piece of paper. With a shake of his wrist, the sheet opened up, exposing itself to a lengthy contract filled to the brim with legalese and fine print.

And sure enough, at the very bottom, was a handwritten signature of a style Dipper would know anywhere: _Gwendolyn Corduroy._

"You see, my friend." Vic proudly boasted. "Your pretty girlfriend signed whatever I stuck under her nose to avoid her troubles with the law. Like I said earlier, that means as with the rest of _my_ talent in the back, I own her under lock and key."

 _"Can – Can he actually do that, CA? Is that really legal?"_

 _"Only here and "Missoura" I'm afraid, Ty…"_

Dipper returned his gaze upwards as he could have sworn a raspy voice was calling out to him. "I didn't know, Dipper! I swear I didn't know!"

Macallan held a hand against his chest, "So, if I want your precious – Wendy, was it – dangling helplessly in that cage as I drag her sorry behind from town to town, there isn't a damned thing you can do about it!"

"LET-HER-GO!"

A new chant rose up from within the crowd: "LET-HER-GO! LET-HER-GO! LET-HER-GO!"

By some sort of miracle, the anonymous bystanders seemed to rally behind Wendy and Dipper's plight. However, Macallan appeared to be unmoved by the sudden change. He promptly reclaimed Wendy's contract and returned it into his pocket. "I believe this matter is closed…" Vic started to take his leave.

"Hey, wait a sec!" Dipper called out after him. "Where are you going?!"

The manager paid him no heed as Vic headed towards the other side of the ring. The sleuth gave chase as the man parted the ropes to make his exit. "Come back here! This isn't over with!"

Wrestling with the returning panic in his chest, Dipper knew that his chance to save Wendy was slipping away with every passing moment. "I – I won't let you take Wendy away!" He shot out and grabbed the elder's wrist, and pulled him back, bringing Macallan to a complete halt. "Do you hear me, you – _you two-timing, double-crossing, good-for-nothing carny!_ "

*GASP!*

A collective gasp was heard throughout the entire arena before it was overtaken by absolute silence. Maintaining his grip on Wendy's captor, Dipper took a quick glimpse towards the heavens for guidance. A shocked and horrified expression overcame Wendy, as she shook her head back and forth and mouthed the message, "Oh, Dipper, no…"

 _"Welp! He's done for!"_

 _"It was nice knowing ya, kid!"_

"What…did…you…say…to…me…?"

Dipper could do nothing but watch as Vic Macallan turned back towards him. The man's neck now bulged as veins became apparent. Bones cracked loudly as his dark eyes grew into a deep red like the fires of hell itself. His face twisted into a menacing sneer, exposing several fanged, marbled teeth. A circular spot on each side of his forehead, just below his perfectly-coifed hair, began to poke from beneath his wrinkled flesh.

"How…dare…you! Who are you to speak to me in such a manner, you miserable little bastard!"

The boy remained frozen by the sudden transformation, until a painful sensation awoke his body. The fingertips clutched around Vic's hand became scorching hot. Dipper released his grip and cried out, blowing repeatedly on his hand in an effort to cool it. Macallan advanced on the stunned tween, meeting him face-to-face.

"No one! And I mean no one…" His grave voice grew even deeper, its pitch becoming something not of this earth. "…tells me what I can or can't do! Do we have an understanding?"

"I – I – "

 _"Not so tough now, are we, bucko?"_

 _"Have a heart, Ty. He's only a boy! Besides, if you asked me, it takes guts to stand up to the most powerful man in wrestling today. He has to defend his lady's honor, after all."_

 _"Maybe, but then again, who asked you in the first place, CA?"_

Dipper was left speechless before the monster in front of him. He immediately recalled Wendy's brief OCW history lesson to Mabel:

 _"That's Victor Leopold_ _Macallan for you. A genius businessman and mastermind to some, and to others, he's said to be the devil himself…"_

He turned his head around the ring, finding that the entire audience waited on his next move. Why weren't they afraid like he was? Couldn't they see the demonic changes occurring in the ring before them?

 _"_ _Unless - he doesn't want them to see – he only wants me to know something's really wrong here…"_

All of a sudden, a new voice spoke over the overhead speaker setup, "Well, chief. It really looks like you stepped in it now…"

 _"_ _It – It can't be! Can it, Ty?"_

 _"_ _I hope not, CA. I thought that jerk was gone for good!"_

 _Both Dipper and Macallan turned away from one another and towards the walkway to the backstage._ _A man with neatly, slicked-back dark hair and a trimmed beard sat crossed-legged beneath the jumbo-video screen. Sporting a simple shirt with four red stars across it, the stranger lowered his muscular arms onto his bare thighs as he made himself more comfortable._

 _Dipper noticed that the man's biceps were blanketed with several complex and yet, connecting tattoos. The most noticeable of them all was an oversized Pitt Cola logo covering his entire left shoulder._

 _The new arrival offered the startled twelve-year old a simple wave with a white-wrapped hand marked with a giant-black X, while dangling his microphone between his fingers. His other covered palm held a sealed frozen treat from the concession stand._

Dipper stole a peek at Macallan _,_ whose anger had temporarily vanished, being replaced with a sense of disappointment and annoyance at the tattooed man's re-appearance.

 _"_ _Bigosh! Bigosh! It's GB Hood! The self-proclaimed "voice of the people" has returned to the OCW!"_

 _"_ _Bah! I tell ya, CA. This night keeps getting stranger and stranger…"_

"GB HOOD! GB HOOD! GB HOOD! GB HOOD! GB HOOD!"

The mob chanted in perfect harmony, celebrating the long-awaited return of their favorite mouth-piece, and yet, he appeared unmoved by the response. Nonchalantly, he used his teeth to open the wrapper to his frozen treat and took a bite. "But considering that you look like a deer caught in the headlights, I'll break it down for you: you ain't in Kansas anymore, Dorothy! This is the OCW universe, where anything can happen! The lines between reality and fantasy are constantly blurred beyond rhyme or reason, like " _why did they fire this super-popular wrestler_?" or " _why didn't GB Hood get his main-event-shot at Wrestlepalooza yet?"_ "

The spectators roared in purpose of the cheated fighter, allowing GB Hood to take a quick breather and another bite of his ice cream. As Macallan rolled his eyes and scoffed at the claim, Dipper walked closer and leaned on the ropes, "But what does all of that have to do with me?"

 _"_ Patience, pip-squeak," Hood held his hand up, "I'm getting there. The point of all this is that everything that happens here is controlled by the whims and wills of one man, and one man alone." He smiled and pointed towards the ring, "And that man is the old geezer that you cheesed off two minutes ago _."_

"Geezer?!" Vic shouted back at GB Hood, though his complaints were drown out by the praise of the horde _._

"He might not look like it," Hood warned. "But _Vic_ _Macallan is a literal demon_ _when it comes to this business._ He'll dig into you and drain you dry until he's had his fill." He covered his fuzzy mouth mordantly, "Oops. Broke the fourth wall again. Dropped another "megaton-bomb." My bad…"

"But if things are really so terrible," the pre-teen asked with earnest. "Why are you still here?"

"The job has its perks…" GB Hood confessed, displaying the melting remains of his snack. "For starters, I finally got my ice cream bars…"

He paused to let the fans cheer for a few seconds. "But as I was saying, from the look of things, it sounds like the devil has those claws set real deep into your girlfriend up there – "

"Actually," Dipper admitted. "We're not – "

"Well, forgive me, Mr. Politically Correct!" GB Hood quipped. "It was meant as a generalization rather than an actuality. He raised his gaze towards Wendy, "You don't mind, do you, Red?"

The lumberjane turned captive simply shrugged her shoulders in response.

"Thanks," the wrestler nodded. "At least there's one sensible mind between the two of you…"

As the bystanders laughed at Dipper's expense, he took offense by the off-comment. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Spunky, that you don't seem to realize how far you are over your head on this. The only chance you have at making it outta here with that girl is by beating the devil at his own game. And to be honest, I haven't the slightest idea how you're going to do that…"

Dipper swallowed as he spun around to face his latest nemesis; his mind spinning a mile a second as the man's fiendish eyes burned into his very soul. His gaze shot upwards Wendy, who presented the same amount of concern over her freckled face. Dipper could make out GB Hood asking one last question, echoing from every aspect of the stadium:

 _"_ _Do we have your attention now-w-w-w?"_


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry again for the wait. Next time's the final chapter! So, stay tuned!_

* * *

As GB Hood's question boomed repeatedly within Dipper's mind, the world around the overwhelmed boy began to weigh down on him. Vic Macallan's fiendish grin, the ever-growing concern on Mabel and Wendy's faces, as well as the cheers and mocks of the crowd each played their part in chipping away at his psyche.

Part of Dipper wished that he could simply pull his hat over his eyes and wish the world away. He asked himself how such a thing could have happened. Was the deceitful showman telling the truth? Could he really hold Wendy's fate in the palm of his hand as he claimed? Any way he attempted to spin the situation all resulted in the same conclusion – _this nightmare would not have happened had he kept his big mouth shut._

A stern voice broke through the madness, bringing Dipper back to reality:

"So, what do you say, fella?"

"Huh?" Dipper raised his head to see Macallan's arm opened towards him.

The man held his microphone closer to his lips, "You made it more than obvious that you want me to release your lumberjack friend from our "previous arrangement." I guess the real question here is what are you willing to do _for her_ _sake_?"

Dipper stole a quick glance towards Wendy in the sky before meeting the devil eye-to-eye.

"Whatever it takes…"

"Is that right?" Vic stroked his chin with his free hand. "In that case, perhaps we can work out of a deal…"

 _"Oh, here we go! Well, kid, see ya in the funny pages!"_

 _"For heaven's sake, Ty! He's just a boy! Don't do it, son! You can't trust the monster in the fancy Italian suit!"_

"What – What is it you want from me?" Dipper stuttered onward.

"Indeed a worthy question." Macallan boasted, holding an index finger upwards. "What is it that you, a mere peon, could give to someone like me who has everything that this world has to offer?" He walked back and forth, turning his back on Dipper as the audience chattered mindlessly.

"Wait…" The promoter stopped in his tracks and spun back around, "That's it!"

"What's "it?"" Dipper asked.

Macallan took a few steps towards the confused pre-teen, making him jump back. " _You_ _are "it"_ , my young adversary. You claim that our OCW Universe is nothing but grown men playing pretend, correct? That any simpleton could do this with ease? Well, that's what I want from you…"

He pointed up towards the cage holding Wendy prisoner. "You really want me to let that girl go? Okay then, go up there and get her!"

"Wha – " Dipper's mouth instantly dropped.

"You heard me." Macallan challenged him. "That is the deal, Mr. Skeptic. Climb up there and touch the outstretched fingers of your girlfriend, and I'll set her free…"

 _"Ah, the "Dustin Hoffman" proposal…"_

 _"Gosh, I love that movie…"_

"…you have my assurance…"

 _"A Vic Macallan "assurance!" The only thing more honest and pure is the actual word of the Almighty!"_

 _"You mean, more like the twisted falsehoods of the fallen one, Ty! Stay on your toes, son! Be ready for anything!"_

With the offer given, Dipper stared up towards the monument before him. The Triple Decker seemed to stretch out beyond its limits, growing longer and taller with each passing second.

Dipper forced his shaking knees to a halt as his nerves went supersonic.

"You…want… _me_ …to climb that?!"

"Oh, what's the matter?" Vic bent down to address Dipper. "There's nothing to be afraid of. After all, _we're only make-believe, right?"_

"But – "

Dipper turned back around, where GB Hood had moved to the side of the entrance ramp with another frosty snack.

"What?" The fighter asked. "I'd love to help, but you know…" He shrugged and took another bite. "…ice cream…"

A new whisper-chant could be heard flowing through the masses, _"No chance. He's got no chance in hell…"_

"Well, go on!" Macallan stood up and threw an arm into the air. _"Wendy's waiting for you…"_

Upon hearing her name, Dipper returned his sights to the top of the arena. His redheaded main squeeze was on her flanneled elbows and jeaned knees on the floor of the cage. With her fingers wrapped around the nearest grate, Wendy lowered her body as much as possible and shouted down to her friend in hopes that he could hear:

 _"C'mon, Dip! You can do this! I know you can!"_

Looking past the vast obstacle set before him, the shaken detective never took his eyes off Wendy as he mounted his rescue; her moral support powering him past his doubts and uncertainties. Dipper struugled as he pulled one of the ladders from the edge of the ring and towards the center. Macallan stepped to the side and chuckled as the boy attempted to line it up with the closest hanging table.

 _"That's it, Dipper! Keep going!"_

With the ladder set, Dipper took an uneasy step onto the first rung. It violently shook beneath his sneakered feet, forcing him to cling even tighter to the sides. About halfway up the ladder – a good ten feet from the ground, Dipper's legs started to freeze up. He gulped and started to turn away from Wendy and glanced towards the ground.

 _"No, Dipper! Don't look down!"_

His blood turned to ice as the effects of vertigo snatched him up in its clutches.

"…And I just looked down…"

The fans jeered and booed Dipper as he began to panic. Wendy raised her voice, trying her best to overcome the wave of ignorance and cruelty emitting from the patrons surrounding the arena.

 _"Dipper! Dipper! Look at me!"_

Trembling, he turned back towards Wendy, who pounded on the bottom of her cell with both fists.

 _"Don't listen to them, okay? Block them out! Focus on my voice! Now, try again!"_

Dipper gazed back into Wendy's green eyes and the chaotic world around him melted away. He followed her instructions as he took another step upwards…

 _"You got this, Dipper! You got this!"_

…only to have his foot slip out from beneath him. Dipper's hands flew from the ladder's railings and outwards as he tried to regain his balance.

"WHOA-A-A-A-A!"

 _"Dipper! Hang on!"_

His shifted weight made the ladder shake uncontrollably. With one final tilt, it began to tip over to the right. Dipper screamed for dear life as he fell from the ladder:

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

 _"Oh! Oh! There he goes, CA!"_

 _"Watch out, small-fry! This is definitely gonna sting!"_

*BLAM!*

Dipper landed hard on his shoulder as he slightly bounced on the springy mat flooring. He opened his eyes to see that the metal ladder was about to land right on top of him!

"Ah, s – "

He rolled away from danger just in the nick of time. The ladder smacked the ground and recoiled until it came to a complete stop.

Left breathless, Dipper remained motionless and gaped upwards at the bright lights above him. Wendy could no longer be seen or heard. Suddenly, a shadow blocked his sight. Dipper narrowed his eyes to see the grinning grimace of Vic Macallan.

"Dipper, wasn't it? You definitely showed me a thing or two. _Halfway up the ladder?_ Wow!" He crossed his arms behind his back. "Maybe now, you'll learn to watch your smart mouth…"

The defeated tween held up a finger in agreement, "Way ahead of you on that…"

*SHATTER!*

The sound of glass breaking echoed throughout the stadium, sending everyone in attendance to their feet. A killer bass-intro, _sounding similar in tone to that of a siren_ , blared over the speakers, drowning out the crowd.

To Dipper's surprise, Macallan's face instantly turned a ghost-white. The cocky promoter rushed away from him and fled towards the opposite end of the ring, scurrying through the ropes without effort. In spite of his exhaustion, Dipper turned towards the entrance and his eyes widened at the sight before him.

 _A new wrestler stormed out from the back with a determined look on his goatee-covered face. The bald headed pugilist sported a simple black leather vest along with solid onyx briefs. The right bottom was monogrammed with the number "3:16." The dual knee-braces above his black boots forced him to occasionally limp amongst his natural strut._

 _The most haunting feature to Dipper was the stranger's eyes; a polar opposite of Wendy's shining emerald ones, the man's were a stone-cold blue – marked with total callous and left without feeling. The icy glare reminded him of that which a serial killer would produce._

 _"And there he is, ladies and gentlemen! The only man that could send the devil himself running in fear. Former OCW Champion and Hall-of-Famer_ _Rock-Hard Jason Studd!"_

 _"_ _Ah, jeez, CA! Him, too? Who else from the peanut gallery is going to pop out next?"_

Upon passing GB Hood, Rock-Hard stopped in mid-step and shot him a nasty glare. Unfazed, Hood remained in perfect eye contact, and chomped on his ice-cream bar. After a few moments of silent showdown, Studd broke away and returned on his trek to the ring.

 _"After months away from home, the Houston Diamondback makes his triumphant return to the OCW, and the fans here are ecstatic!"_

 _"Never mind that, CA! That kid's going to get a mud-hole stomped in him unless he moves his tail pronto!"_

Heeding the announcer's advice, Dipper hopped to his feet and backed into the further corner of the ring as the new arrival stomped up the metal staircase leading into the ring. He drew back the ropes and headed towards the nearest ring post. With one thrust, Rock-Hard pulled himself up the turnbuckle and raised his arms into the air.

The portion of the spectators in his direction cheered as their icon addressed them. He hopped down and walked across the ring, repeating the action and receiving the same enthusiastic reaction.

Dipper raised an eyebrow at the reception given off. "Who is this guy? And why are these people enamored with him?" He looked up towards Wendy, who silently watched the scene unfold with her hands over her mouth.

 _"Oh…that probably means this is anything but good…"_

As Rock-Hard went towards the third ring-post, he stopped as he spotted Dipper hiding out against the last corner. Keeping the wary child in his line of view, Studd walked towards the edge of the ring and leaned over the ropes. He signaled the ringside attendant for a microphone, swiping it out of his hands with a snarl. "Cut the music!"

He turned back around and immediately marched towards Dipper. With a yelp, the boy slid away from the turnbuckle and backed away from the approaching pugilist, holding his hands up and out to create some distance. After a few paces, Jason Studd came to a stop and held his mic up to his mouth.

"Son," he asked, throwing his hand out in Dipper's direction. "What in the blue blazes do you think you're doing?"

"Huh?" Dipper didn't know how to answer the question.

"HUH?!" The crowd mocked him in response.

The superstar walked back towards Dipper, "That was the most pathetic display I've ever seen in all of my years!"

"HUH?!" The fans repeated in conjunction.

"Maybe you haven't been paying attention," Jason Studd continued to chastise Dipper, forcing him back into the corner. "But I don't think you recognize how much trouble you're in! You're up Crap Creek without a paddle, which means you gotta use your hands!"

"HUH?!"

"W-Wha – " Dipper tried to speak up, only to be cut off as the man raised his voice higher.

"Your mouth just got you on the wrong side of the devil himself – "

"HUH?!"

"– and not only that, but you got your pretty, little lady friend caught up in the mix here – "

"HUH?!"

Studd paused and looked upwards towards Wendy, offering a simple nod of respect, "Ma'am…"

She didn't move a single inch, watching the scene unfold before her eyes. Her grip on the cage tightened in nervous anticipation. Unlike Dipper, Wendy knew what kind of person her little guy was left all alone with.

"And what are you doing about it?" Rock-Hard demanded, pointing directly in Dipper's face. "Making a total jackass out of yourself!"

"HUH?!"

"Can't even climb a damn ladder right! That little fall of yours was nothing but embarrassing!"

"HUH?!"

"B-But…" Dipper tried to explain, his body freezing in total fear of the predator before him.

"But what?!" Studd yelled into his mic, holding it away from the tween's face.

"HUH?!"

"But I really tried – "

"Rock-Hard didn't ask if you tried, son!" He screamed even louder.

"HUH?!"

"Rock-Hard asked why ya didn't do!" The warrior walked away in disgust, allowing Dipper to take a breath of relief. He marched around the ring before to coming to a next stop. Jason moved his free hands upwards, "And what about _her_?" He took another step back towards Dipper. "Look at her…"

Dipper's brown eyes were dead-set on the unpredictable anti-hero moving about the ring before him. His unintentional act of defiance irked Studd's rage. He pounded his boot against the mat and repeated himself.

"I SAID LOOK AT HER!"

"HUH?!"

Forced out of his fear-stricken state, Dipper forced himself to look back towards Wendy, finding the same amount of worry and alarm across her freckled face as he had.

"Now, does it look like she need to you to "try"? DOES IT?!"

"N-N-N-No…" Dipper shook his head.

"You're damn right, son! That girl needs you to "do!"" Studd pointed down at one of the many messages and logos printed on his vest in rhinestone. "You see this, kid? It says…"

The viewers chanted along with the phrase, as they knew by heart, "…D.B.N. _Don't believe nobody!"_

Rock-Hard continued on as the crowd calmed, " _That means you want something done, you gotta do it yourself! Ain't no one gonna come and help ya outta this one!_ You want your girl down from that cage? Well then, get your tubby lil' butt up there and bring her down! Let nothing, come hell or high water stop you from reaching her!"

Speaking out against the roars surrounding him, Dipper meekly asked, "But then, why are you here?"

"Because…" Studd answered, now pointing downward towards where Macallan stood at ringside displaying a frustrated sneer. "If there's one thing I hate in this company, it's that lying, sniveling, good-for-nothing "sumbitch!" And if giving you a swift kick in the ass to get you up that ladder is the one thing that'll ruin his night, then, I'll be damned if I'm not gonna go and do it!"

The two men traded scowls; an unconditional sign that their rivalry would never be over before Jason returned his full attention to Dipper. "But maybe you need a little something extra. Perhaps some liquid courage might give you a little boost…"

 _"Liquid courage? He doesn't mean – Oh, no, Ty! He can't be serious!"_

 _"Yeah, Jason! He's a minor! I mean, I know we're in Oregon, but still…"_

Jason Studd walked back to the edge of the ring and waved his arm towards the group of attendant waiting on hand. The furthest one hustled to a nearby cooler and returned with two aluminum cans. The fighter motioned again and the roadie gently tossed them.

Catching the drinks in one swipe, Rock-Hand turned around to offer Dipper a can. Noticing something amiss, Studd looked down at the ice-cold drink in his hand. Disgusted, he spun back around and hurled the beverage back at the aide, missing his mark by mere inches.

"How 'bout something non-alcoholic for the kid, you jackass!"

" _HAHA!"_

 _"Now, that's the good, ol' Rock-Hard I know, folks…"_

The now-extra-careful attendant personally handed him a can of Pitt Cola, to which Jason swiftly grabbed, "Gimme that!"

Before Dipper could react, the beverage was pitched into his gut with an "Ugh!"

"Drink up, squirt!" Jason Studd raised his can. "You're definitely gonna need it!"

Dipper popped the top of his soda and went to take a sip, stopping as he spotted Rock-Hard tilting his head backwards and messily pouring his adult beverage down into his open mouth. A thick layer of foam splashed over his goatee and downwards into the flooring.

"Eh, when in Rome…" Dipper shrugged and mimicked the superstar, hoisting the cola over his mouth and letting its sticky contents empty down his throat and over his clothing. As the audience applauded this new change in character, the tiny sleuth gagged on the sweet swill, as it accidentally went down the wrong pipe.

Even from stories above, Wendy covered her mouth and laughed at such a scene, knowing that she was baring witness to an once-in-a-lifetime-moment from her usually introvert companion.

""Atta-boy!" Studd took his half-empty can and cracked it against Dipper's, making their contents flying into the air. "Now, you're getting it!"

 _"I can't believe what I'm seeing, CA. I've never seen this side of Rock-Hard before…"_

 _"You're telling me, Ty. Looks like ol' Jason Studd has an apprentice in the making…"_

Once finished, Rock-Hard threw his empty container behind his shoulder and out of the ring while Dipper merely set his down on the ground.

"Thank you…"

The much-larger adult reached out and offered an open hand. As Dipper was about to shake it, he could hear a shriek coming from overhead:

 _"Stop! Dipper! Dipper! No! Get away!"_

His attention instantly went back to Wendy. All of her mirth had been replaced with a sense of urgency and fear.

 _"Don't get too close to a Houston Diamondback, Dip!"_ The ginger warned. _"They'll turn on you and strike at any given moment!"_

Dipper looked back at Jason Studd as the sleuth took a few paces back with hand overdrawn. Studd's smile vanished as his serious expression returned. He held up both palms and forced a chuckle. "Heh-heh! You got me." He pointed up towards Wendy. "That lady of yours, kid? Definitely a keeper; girl sure knows her stuff…"

He chortled again before immediately spinning into a rage, "NOW GET BACK UP THAT LADDER BEFORE I TOSS YOUR SCRAWNY BEHIND UP THERE!"

With a yelp, Dipper sprinted across the ring, took hold of another ladder, and once aligned beneath a low-hanging table, began to scale to the rescue for a second time.

 _"And there he goes, folks! Our unsung hero's ready to give it another go!"_

 _"And with great timing, too, CA! Especially on the part of the lady in the cage above. She probably saved that kid from receiving a "Rock-Hard-Shocker," courtesy of the Houston Diamondback himself!"_

His job done, Jason Studd headed up towards the end of the squared circle and lifted the ropes to make his exit. Vic Macallan instantaneously rushed to the opposite side of ringside to maintain some safe distance from his long-time nemesis.

The fighter took a metal folding chair and set himself up next to Mabel, who remained parked in the seat provided to her by OCW Security. The small metal-mouthed pixie sat pouting with crossed arms as her brother and friend were unwillingly tossed into the spotlight. Her jealously quickly faded as Studd opened another drink and focused on the action in the ring.

"Ooh!" Mabel analyzed the man from head to toe, memorizing his every detail. She raised an eyebrow upon seeing a strange marking on his jacket.

"Um, excuse me, mister?"

Jason let out a burp, his sights never faltering for a moment. "What is it?"

"I was wondering about your vest. What do the initials, _"B.M.F._ mean?"

"Well, little lady," he said, taking another swig, "What'd you think it stands for?"

"Hmm…" Mabel held her chin in her palm as she thought, "Wait, I got it! It means _"Be My Friend,"_ right?"

Rock-Hard slowly turned to his side and stared down the naïve girl with complete affection in her shining brown eyes. To her surprise, the burly man let out a hearty laugh and slapped the back of Mabel's chair. "HAHA! Kid, you're alright!"

Back in the ring, Dipper made his way to the top of the ladder. With both feet planted on the last rung, he shifted his weight as the support beneath him started to sway again. The wooden table leading upwards was within his grasp.

Wendy saw what was about to happen, _"You're right there, Dipper! Now, jump!"_

"JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!" The entire stadium joined along with the captive high-schooler as Dipper bent his knees and leapt upwards as the ladder tipped over and landed back on the springy ground. In mid-air, the boy dug his fingernails into the rounded corner of the table. He strained and flailed about until he was able to pull himself safely onto the top of the swinging platform. From there, Dipper collapsed and lied back as he struggled to catch his breath.

 _"I – I can't believe it, CA! The chubby, little pisher made it up there! I thought for sure he'd be wheeled out on a stretcher by now!"_

 _"Believe it, Ty! Never underestimate the abilities of a young man in love!"_

 _"Oh, CA. You big softie…"_

The crowd gave him a congratulatory round of applause as Wendy flashed a toothy grin, knowing that she was another step closer to freedom.

"You still with me, kiddo?"

The fact that her voice was a lot closer gave some much-needed comfort to her attempted rescuer. Dipper nodded along to answer back, "Uh…Uh-huh…"

Her appearance reverted to that of a serious one, "I know you're super-worn-out, Dip, but you gotta get up! There's two tables left to go…"

"Two…more…tables…?" Dipper's eyes focused away from Wendy and towards the remaining obstacles suspended above him. He let his head smack the wood under him, "Oh, man…"

"Dipper, listen to me," Wendy insisted. "You're so close, buddy…" She sighed and looked out of the corner of her eye for a split moment, "I – I know I messed up bad, okay? I got myself stuck up here. But I can't do this without you, Dip. I need you to keep going… _please_ …"

With the plea said, Dipper opened his eyes. He staggered back to his feet, only for the table to start rocking from under him. "WHOA!" Dipper sunk to one knee and planted his hands to retain his balance.

 _"How the heck am I going to get up there if I can barely stand?"_

"Hang a sec, Dipper!"

He raised his head to see Wendy pointing down at his table.

"Use the momentum!" She swung her arms back and forth like a cradle. "Get yourself high enough, and then leap for it!"

With Wendy's encouragement, Dipper shakily stood back up. Following his lumberjane love's advice, he began to shift his weight from heels to toes. His slight movements made the table swing from side to side.

"That's it, Dipper! Keep it up! Now, JUMP!"

On Wendy's signal, Dipper hopped from his current standings to the next. He let out an "OOF!" as the second table's edge cracked against his bread basket. In spite of the blow, the child was able to pull himself up with ease.

"Good going, Dipper! Now – "

To Wendy's shock, her admirer was ahead of the game. He steadied his footing and repeated the sequence. Before she knew it, Dipper had already made it to the final set of tables.

 _"This is…truly incredible, Ty…I've never seen anything like this in all my years…"_

 _"For once, we agree on something, CA. These two tykes are working in tandem towards the same goal. One's weakness is the other's strength! That's the kinda teamwork you just don't see in the OCW anymore…"_

 _"Heaven willing, maybe, just maybe, they'll be able to get outta this jam…"_

 _"Now that, I wouldn't count on, CA…"_

 _"Whatcha' mean by that, Ty?"_

 _"I mean, as entertaining as all of this is, there is a reason Mr. Macallan set this up…"_

 _"Meaning…?"_

 _"Meaning that I don't think they're out of the woods just yet…"_

 _"Hoo, boy! Let's hope you're wrong, Ty. For their sakes…"_

"GAH!" With one last thrust, Dipper flung himself from the top table and reached outwards towards the top of the scaffolding. His hands clutched around the metal bars, giving them a cooling sensation. He groaned as he stretched a leg upwards, eventually finding a foothold for support. After a couple of tries, Dipper was able to pull his body onto the walkway. He huffed and puffed, finding himself only a few yards away from Wendy trapped in the steel cage.

The freckled auburn-haired beau beamed at her young charge. "Way to go, Dipper! You're almost there!"

"A-Almost?" He asked, as his body started to come back down from the adrenaline rush.

Wendy dropped down from her knees and lied prone at the bottom of the cage. Her dimpled face was squished against the iron grating as she forced a pasty-white arm through a hole in the cage. Dipper could see from the rolled-up sleeve and reddened skin that it was definitely a tight squeeze for his crush.

She stretched downwards with her hand, extending her fingers as much as humanly possible. Seeing the end of his quest in sight, Dipper stood on his tip-toes, leaving the fans watching on edge in a quiet gasp, and reached up to touch Wendy's hand…

 _"This is it, ladies and gents: the moment of truth. As promised by Vic Macallan, all they have to do is touch hands, and the young lady will be freed from her confinement."_

…only to miss it by several feet.

"What?!" The two friends exclaimed at the same time. The audience let out a series of disheartened groans as Dipper continued to hop upwards towards Wendy, barely missing her fingertips by mere inches.

 _"Oh, no, CA! He's just too short! They can't reach each other!"_

 _"He knew it, Ty! I swear to you, Macallan knew this would happen."_

In spite of the odds, each teen kept going at achieving the near-impossible. Wendy grinded her teeth and extended her arm further. She cried out a bit as her shoulder blade popped against the grate beneath her. Dipper lowered himself to the floor of the narrow pathway and shot up like a rocket.

"C'mon! C'mon! Almost…there!"

"I'm trying, Wendy! I swear I'm trying…"

"I know you are! Just…keep…going…!"

The horde's heart went towards the duo; their moans and howls grew louder and louder with every failed attempt at reconnecting. No matter how hard they tried, the limits set between Dipper and Wendy was just too great to overcome.

After countless attempts, Dipper finally collapsed to his knees. Sweat poured down his back and over his face. He wiped it away from his face, and glanced towards Wendy.

"What – What do we do now?"

A dejected Wendy rose up from the cage and tested her sore limbs. She saw her devotee looking to her for any sort of guidance, but for the first time tonight, the ginger found herself completely speechless.

"I…I'm not sure…"

*BING!* *BING!* *BING!* *BING!*

Startled, Dipper began to search his surroundings for the source of the ringing echo. "What – Where is that noise coming from?"

"I dunno…" Wendy replied. "Maybe it's – " She paused as her eyes locked on the giant video screen mounted across the arena. "Dipper! The videotron!"

They watched in horror as the display projected the ghastly visage of Vic Macallan. The well-garbed elder stood at ringside with mic in hand next to the time keeper's table.

 _"Hold on! Why did Mr. Macallan have the bell rung? I thought he said that this was the main event?"_

 _"I don't like this, Ty. I think you were on to something about him having an ace up his sleeve…"_

All of a sudden, nearly two dozen wrestlers of different types came storming out from the back area. Smaller luchadors and cruiserweights hurried alongside beefcakes, jobbers, and heavyweights. Within seconds, they swarmed around the outside of the ring, as if in wait of an unknown signal.

 _"What in the world – I think that's nearly everyone from the back; you know, except for – "_

 _"There's definitely something funny going on, Ty!"_

"All right, all right!" Vic addressed the masses. "I think we all had enough of the silliness happening up there. So allow me to spice things up a bit…"

Dipper and Wendy shared a worried look among one another as neither knew what to expect next.

Macallan pointed directly up at the stunned boy and bellowed in his microphone, _"…Whoever tosses that child off from up there will be $100,000 richer!"_

Several screeches and shouts were heard from within the audience, followed by a collection of "Boo's."

 _"What?! That son-of-a – he's finally lost it!"_

 _"CA, you know I usually try to be a company man, but this – this is crazy. Even this kid doesn't deserve that!"_

Dipper's jaw opened upon having the death sentence placed upon him. He helplessly watched as the gang of wrestlers entered the ring and began to head towards him using the numerous discarded ladders.

"Dipper, what are you doing?"

He turned around to see Wendy back on her knees at the cage's bottom. "Don't just stand there! They're coming up this way! You have to get outta here!"

Dipper thought for a second, then stood up. "I'm – I'm not leaving you here, Wendy…"

She grew crossed, "Maybe you missed the part where the nut bag down there placed a bounty on your head! Just – don't worry about me, okay? You need to split before they mess you up real bad!"

He refused again, shaking his head, "I don't care what happens to me! I won't leave you trapped up there!"

 _"That's a sign of real beauty, folks. The purest love – truly poetry in motion…"_

"*SNIFF* _CA, would you risk everything to save my sorry behind from the brink of imminent danger?"_

 _"Well, that depends, Ty. How much would you pay me to do so?"_

"Stupid, stubborn…" Wendy lightly banged her forehead against the cage in frustration as she gripped the bars in front of her. "Gonna get himself killed…"

However, Dipper wasn't going to give up without a fight. He peered over his shoulder, spotting a ladder to his left on the slender end of the scaffolding. He followed it, seeing that it led to the front of Wendy's cage.

"Wendy?" Dipper called out. "Hey, Wendy?! The door! What about the door?!"

She lifted her head, her face now blotted with matted copper hair, "I tried it already. It's locked."

"On your side maybe," the detective theorized. "But what about my side?"

Some of the darkness and doubt faded away from Wendy's expression. "I…don't think so. But whatever you're going to do, I'd do it fast!"

With her approval, Dipper rushed towards the ladder. He skid to a stop as he spotted a muscular hand rising up from beneath the girder. The mere sight filled Dipper with dread.

 _"It's too late. They're already here…"_

"Dipper! Look out!"

Wendy's warning came a second too late as another hand seized Dipper's right ankle. He kicked and squirmed towards freedom to no prevail, as the mystery palm pulled him closer towards the edge of the scaffolding.

"Hey, let him go right now!" Wendy pounded on the gate with her fists, trying to creating a distraction. "Don't you dare hurt him! Just wait until I get outta here! You'll be sorry, pal!"

But it was no use. With one more tug, Dipper was yanked off the platform and flung back towards solid earth.

 _"Oh, heaven have mercy! There he goes! One of those madmen actually did it!"_

 _"CA, CA, I just can't look…"_

The last thing Dipper heard as he fell was Wendy shrieking at the top of lungs after him; her cries overlapped his very own:

"DIPPER! DDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRR!"


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi again, guys. Yeah, I know this is super-late, but like I say, better late than never. And you all know how unfinished stories drive me nuts. To make up for the delay, I made this conclusion extra-long; so much to the point I'm throwing in another chapter to read immediately after this one._

 _As always, please enjoy the story, and let me know how it came out. Thanks for all of your support!_

* * *

"GAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

Dipper's arms and legs flailed wildly as he soared past the hanging tables and back towards the sweat-stained ring mat. Wendy's voice grew further and further away with every passing millisecond. The boy closed his eyes and covered his head as he prepared himself the painful impact waiting below.

"Oh, no…" Mabel, still sitting at ringside, shielded her face with her long sleeved arm. "I can't look…"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH – Huh?!"

Dipper felt his body snap back in mid-air. As if by a miracle, his descent came to a mysterious halt. Dipper opened his eyes and looked to his right in amazement. An unknown luchador had reached over from the bottom set of tables and snagged the falling child by the vest.

Mabel wiped a layer of sweat away from her brow as Wendy heaved in relief, holding a still-shaking hand over her beating heart.

 _"I – I can't believe it! Look, Hoss, look!"_

 _"I'm seeing it, and still can't believe it, CA! I don't know what's crazier: all of these guys trying to make good on Mr. Macallan's offer, or this single luchador risking it all to save this kid!"_

 _"Wait? Luchador? Could it be?"_

Once Dipper's world came to a solidified stand-still, he overlooked his savior from top to bottom. The portly man's face was hidden away behind a modest green and yellow mask. His bare chest was a mix-up of tanned muscle and flab. A royal blue cape covered his broadened shoulders. The wrestler's bottom half consisted of greenish-yellow leggings and matching aqua-colored boots and underoos held up by a lightning bolt themed belt.

"T-Thank you…" Dipper said, his breath still lost. "I – I don't know how I could ever – "

"Pfft!" The fighter waved away his concern. "Think nothing of it, little dude. It's not like you've never helped me out before…"

Dipper's jaw dropped upon hearing the familiar voice, "It can't be?"

Wendy seized her cage tighter, "No…way…"

 _"But it is! El Pollo Loco makes his long-awaited return to the OCW!"_

 _"I should have known, CA. Only that obese oaf would toss away a free ticket at $100K!"_

 _"More like "a real hero," Ty! It takes guts to stand up against the crowd to do the right thing!"_

 _"Bah! Why don't we ask the shrimp that was nearly hurled to his death that same question. He's probably changed his mind on getting involved in his lady friend's mess in the first place!"_

 _"I highly doubt that…"_

"Soos?!"

The gentle giant carefully placed his co-worker on the firm table, bending down slightly to whisper behind a raised hand. _"Psst! "Ix-Nay to the Oos-Say on V-Tay!"_

With his job done, Soos set his right bicep against his chest and took a bow to his audience, making them rise to their feet with cheers. A vast majority of them wrapped their open hands around their mouth and called out to their idol with a click-like mock bird call.

"Are they "clucking?" Dipper asked, making his friend shrug modestly.

"Yeah…" Soos spun around and used a thumb to point at the cape on his back. There was an image of a cartoon-like chicken donning wrestling gear and making a fighting stance. "It's kinda my thing…"

"Wait a second…" The small detective used the little bit of Spanish he knew to translate. "That means… _the crazy chicken_. Soo – I mean, _Pollo_ , why would you want to call yourself that?"

The adult shifted his shoulders again, "I dunno. Seemed like an awesome name at the time; you know, obvious copyrights aside…"

Dipper let out a laugh of pure disbelief. He looked up at Wendy, "And here, we didn't want to know what he did on his own time…"

Wendy nodded, setting her head against the cool steel. "Hey, it's not the first time I've been surprised tonight…"

The small brown-haired sleuth scratched his head in confusion. "I don't get it. Why would you want to hide this?"

Soos began to explain, "I gotta keep this a secret, dude; especially from Abuelita. Heck, if she found out about this, she'd do way more damage than any of these guys ever could! That's why moonlighting in the OCW is perfect for me, considering how they come and go as they please."

"Yeah…" Dipper said, aiming his sights at Wendy, "We kinda have the opposite problem at the moment. Wait, does Melody know, too?"

"Uh-huh," Soos nodded. "She fully supports it, as long as I'm careful." The handyman in incognito lowered his eyes suggestively, "In fact, one of our favorite things to do at night is that I wear the mask and we – "

"Okay! Okay!" Dipper held a palm over his eyes and waved the horrid thought away with his other hand. "W-W-Way too much info there!"

Wendy appeared to share the same sentiment, as she covered her reddened face with both hands and rested her forehead against the bars of the cage. "I can't believe he just…"

A voice echoed from the speakers placed around the arena. "Hey! You up there! Hey, fatty!"

All three friends followed the sound to see Vic Macallan at ringside with mic at the helm. He gestured at Soos with the underside of his hand. "What do you think you're doing? Maybe you came late to the show, but the point is to toss the kid from the platform – not save him!"

The audience cheered Soos's deeds as the demonic promoter continued on, "Now, do you want to make a quick hundred-grand or not?"

Knowing that he couldn't be heard at that height, Soos simply crossed his arms and shook his head in defiance. The mere action made the crowd roar even louder.

 _"_ _See! I knew it, Ty! There is some good left in this cruel world!"_

 _"_ _Yeah, but I have a feeling ol' El Pollo Loco is going to regret his decision in a few moments…"_

Macallan stomped his foot in rage and roared into the microphone. "Oh, the hell with it! Get them! Get them both!"

A series of snarls and growls surrounded the two males, forcing them back to back. Wrestlers of all different shapes and sizes climbed towards them. Another group scaled up and down the iron scaffoldings to reach their position on the elevated table. One last group still fought one another in the ring over the right to use the limited amount of ladders to reach their bounty.

Dipper and Soos watched their footing as every careless step made the platform beneath their feet shake. Despite the much-bigger man attempting to shield his pal from danger, the pre-teen could feel his stout body tremble with nervousness.

Left without any other option, Dipper looked to the heavens for an answer. "Wendy! Any advice?!"

"Um…" The redhead looked from side to side, as the new enemies gathered even closer below her.

"Wendy!"

"Still thinking!" She paused for a second, realizing the answer was before her. "Wait!" Wendy snapped her fingers. "That's it!"

"What's _it_?"

She lowered herself closer to the floor, "You guys need to out-think these muscle-heads! Let's face it: you two are not the most physically fit…"

The guys shared a nasty look between one another. Soos bent down to Dipper's ear, "Are you sure we have to go up there and get her?"

"Yes, Soos. I'm sure…"

Wendy went on, unaware of the comments being made against her, "…but you two are way tons smarter than the lot of them put together. Use that to your advantage! Their weaknesses are your strengths!"

"But Wendy," Dipper asked. "How can – WHOA!"

The middle-schooler fell to his knees as the table's balance shifted. He could feel Soos clutching his shoulder in an attempt to keep him still, as the world around them seemed to sink lower.

"What the – " Dipper carefully peered over the edge and gasped aloud. A _literal giant of a man dressed in a simple one-sleeved leotard had managed to secure one of the ladders below and positioned himself beneath the table. The lights of the arena reflected off his shining-bald head. A cold, yet angry expression was frozen into his bearded face._ Using his bare hands, the monster had taken ahold of the platform and started to pull it downwards. The attached cables began to bend and whine under his utter strength.

 _"Oh, boy, CA! They're in real trouble now!"_

Dipper glanced up, "Wendy?! H-How do we stop 'im?!"

Wendy shouted back, " _That's the Behemoth, Dipper! Nearly seven feet tall and over five hundred pounds! You're not going to be able to!_ "

He sighed, "Just great…"

"But that doesn't mean he can't stop himself!"

"Huh?!" Dipper found himself baffled by Wendy's words.

"Just trust me on this! The next time he pulls down on the table, you and Soos get ready to leap to the next table!"

"But Wendy…"

The wide-green-eyed stare Dipper received silenced him. He looked back at Soos, and the two nodded in agreement. Once more, they braced for another tremor when Wendy reissued her instructions:

"JUMP! JUMP NOW!"

Dipper and Soos fled from the middle table of the lower rung; the former hopping to the left and the latter to his right. With the weight difference gone, the Behemoth lost his balance, nearly being catapulted into the air like a slingshot. The massive warrior bounced along with the table until his mighty grip finally broke. He fell back to the mat with a massive *THUD!* creating a human-sized crater in the center of the ring.

" _Oh my stars! Did you see that, Ty?!"_

 _"See it? Heck, CA, I felt it! It was like a sonic boom smacking the ground!"_

Still stunned by their victory by default, Dipper and Soos looked back at the chaos in amazement.

"How did…did that just really happen?

Soos chuckled and readjusted his mask, "Heh-heh! Definite good call, Wendy-dude…"

"I aim to please," the ginger replied. A sense of worry quickly overcame her pride. "Guys! LOOK OUT!"

*BLAM!*

*WHACK!*

The boys were both blindsided with blows knocking them off their feet.

"Ohh – lookie-here!"

A guitar solo riffed through the surround system.

"You betta watch your sorry derrieres!"

The fans roared as another riff trailed behind the one-liner. Dipper and Soos gazed up at their assailants _. A thin, yet fine-toned wrestler donning green and black was standing before the pre-teen with microphone against his neatly cut goatee. His dark brown hair was tightly braided into dreads pulling against the back of his head._

On the other end, Soos was being covered by the man's partner – _a bit more muscular fighter with long, thinning blond hair tied back with a black bandanna. Bare-chested, his trunks were a bright-neon-green covered with cartoonish kissing lips. Black-lensed sunglasses dipped down from the edge of his nose._

 _"Oh, not these bozos, too!"_

 _"They're anything but, Ty! They're the Beat 'Em Up Bandits! Perhaps the greatest Tag Team the OCW ever had. The only question is that whose side are they on?"_

 _"They punched the other guys, CA! I think we already have their answer!"_

The braided speaker waved his finger in Dipper's face. "Try not to take this personally, shrimp. You just gotta see things from the viewpoints of me – the Yard M-U-T-T, and my best buddy over there, the Rude A- double crooked letter…"

The straw-haired man stood with his fist raised over Soos, ready to strike at any given moment. He quickly turned his head and flashed a wink before returning to his pose.

"…this ain't personal. Usually, we'd care less about what the old man down there wanted, but I hate to admit that $100,000 is just too sweet to walk away from."

The Yard Mutt peered down to see Dipper staring back with a raised eyebrow. "Why do you talk like that? I can spell, you know. And what's with the braids anyways? It's like you're trying too hard to be cool or something…"

The Rad-Ass chuckled under his breath until his partner shot him a nasty glare, silencing his snickers instantly.

"Well, that's a bit cruel, ain't it?" The man replied with a saddened tone. "After all, you wouldn't want me talking smack about your "fair flannelled country bumpkin" locked away far beyond yonder, would ya?"

"HEY!" Wendy and Dipper exclaimed simultaneously.

"Tell 'em, Mutt…"

Seeing the perfect chance, Soos lurched upwards and delivered a swipe across the Rad-Ass's chest. The blow sent the unsuspecting wrestler flying up and over onto the middle table. Its connections moaned again with the returned weight.

"Whoa…" The man-child looked down at his own fists in wonder. "Abuelita was right! I'm getting stronger and stronger every day!" With his confidence renewed, Soos gave chase back to the middle and continued his assault. The audience mixed their reactions, chanting the name of their newest hero and calling out with his trademark clucking.

Surprised to see his cohort fallen, Yard Mutt turned back towards Dipper. "'Cuse me a moment…" He leapt away from Dipper to join in the fray versus Soos. The heroic boy was about to jump across to aid his friend as he heard his crush's voice cry out:

"Hold up, Dipper! Don't jump! Look at the cables!"

Dipper's eyes traced along the supports holding the center table steady to see that they were slowly starting to wear thin. One by one, the cables linking his table to Soos's began to slowly snap piece by piece.

"S – I mean, _Pollo_!" Dipper shouted, trying to find Soos between the squirming bodies attempting to hold him down. "You need to get outta there!"

He could hear Soos grunt and strain as he attempted to fight off his attackers. "Ugh…busy at the moment, buddy. Be with you in a jiffy…"

"No, dude!" Wendy joined in. "You don't understand! You need to move pronto!"

Soos laughed off their worries, "Guys, don't be so dramatic! You know I got this!"

"Oh, man…" Dipper bit his lower lip as he looked to his sweetheart for help, "Wendy, I don't know – what do I do?"

Wendy gave him a despondent look, feeling as helpless as Dipper did, "What can we do?!"

The duo could do nothing but watch as the cords broke one by one. As the last stretched into mere threads, Dipper and Wendy turned away, refusing to see how their co-worker's fate played out.

*SNAP!*

*CRASH!*

*BOOM!*

The shift in gravity forced Dipper to dig his heels into the polished wood. The collected gasps of the audience prompted Dipper to reopen his eyes; his jaw left agape by the carnage left before him. The middle table was now dangling vertically by the cables attaching it to the rightmost table. Dipper looked at Wendy, as she stared beneath her, her hands wrapped around the back of her head in distress. He peered over the edge to see the massacre below.

Luckily, the three fighters had crash right onto an entire gang of wrestlers scrambling upwards with their given ladders, creating a mix-up of flesh and bones and metal. And at the very top of the pile, Soos lied safe, yet bruised and sore. He raised a fist and offered his worried friends a thumbs-up.

"Nothing…to…it…" Exhausted, he collapsed back into the fold, making each man groan and wince with the slightest movement.

 _"Just incredible! El Pollo Loco sacrificed himself to save a complete stranger from harm! A living testament to what it means to be a hero to the people who idolize him!"_

 _If those people are dolts, you mean, CA! Don't get me wrong; I'm all for one in believing in "standing up for the little guy" – "_

 _"Since when?!"_

 _"Since whenever! The point is that that stupid move was suicidal! He could have become street pizza if he ended up at the bottom of that mess!"_

 _"It doesn't matter to someone with a heart as big of his! While he's in pain now, he would rather it be him than let an innocent boy suffer at the hands of evil doers!"_

 _"So, now he's innocent again? Whatever you say, CA. Talk about going to extremes…"_

The elder announcement paused as he noticed something off. He pointed above the ring, _"And speaking of extremes, look at who's climbing up the scaffolding!"_

 _"Oh, boy! Watch out, kid!"_

Dipper turned towards Wendy, his mind still tainted with guilt. "He'll – You think Soos'll be okay, right?"

Wendy buried all of her own worries and fears deep within, not wishing to discourage her rescuer. "Hey," she waved off the unease. "It's Soos we're talking about here. Give him a few, and the big guy will walk it off like nothing."

Suddenly, her green eyes focused on a hulking figure lurking in the darkness behind an unsuspecting Dipper. Due to the sheer atheism of the man, he was able to scale the metal bars of the scaffold as if it was a child's jungle gym. He turned away from the structure and flashed a devious smile at Wendy, raising a finger to his lips in an effort to shush her. The mere gesture made her blood turn to ice.

"D-D-D-D-Di-Di-Dip- "

Dipper watched as Wendy grew wide-eyed, her voice lost in a series of stutters. He couldn't remember the last time, if ever, he'd seen his secret love in such a petrified state.

"Wendy?" He asked, unaware of the upcoming danger approaching him. "What's the matter?"

Still shuddering, she dotted her finger in his direction, "T-There – Behind – Behind – "

Before Dipper could react, the stranger hopped from the iron bars and landed on the far edge of the table, sending the small boy into the air. He fell back down onto his knees, using his hands to a grip to prevent stumbling off. With his balance regained, Dipper looked over his shoulder to see a _bulked-up wrestler standing with his narrowed eyes dead-set-ahead. Sweat dripped down from his blond, buzzed-cut hair. A tattoo of an axe and sword crossed at the handles was sketched across his naked chest. His jean shorts were covered by the logos for countless sponsors and advertisers._

His creepy smirk grew as Dipper analyzed his newest foe. It was Wendy's choked out response that made him drop his guest for a split second:

"It's Leslie Wilks!"

Dipper spun around, "Wait! As in the Mixed Martial Artist?"

Before the detective could react, Leslie seized Dipper by the collar and bought him face-to-face. "Yeah, but I do a bit of part time wrestling – when the money's good at least…"

Dipper followed Wilks's eyes downwards, as the pugilist held him helplessly over the table's edge. His legs kicked wildly as he tried to grasp Leslie's wrist. "Wait…don't…"

 _"Oh, that small fry's stepped in it now! There's no chance that he can outdo Leslie Wilks. He's simply got him beat in every possible way."_

 _"That might be true, Ty, but don't count the kid out just yet. Still, I haven't the slightest clue how he could escape "the Monster unleashed!""_

"Hey! Hey! Blockhead! Quit picking on that dork!"

Wilks looked upwards at Wendy as she beat on the cage's innards with her palms in an attempt to buy her boy some time. "What's the big idea, jerk? Run outta cattle to push over back on the farm?"

Leslie chuckled slightly, before returning his sights towards Dipper. "Oh, don't worry. We're going to have some fun before I end this…"

Dipper stopped squirming. "Have some – I don't think I like the sound of – AAHHHHHHHH!"

Before he knew it, Dipper was launched across the air with one broad stroke of Leslie Wilks's massive bicep. He flew past the gap where the middle table once was hinged, and towards the remainder dangling from the right side. He threw his arms open and clasped the ledge, barely clawing a grip into the table. Dipper kicked against the slick wood, his sneakers sliding off as he tried to climb to safety.

"Dipper!" Wendy went after Leslie again. "You crumbum! He doesn't stand a chance against you!"

The behemoth laughed under his breath, "Yeah…but be thankful I'm giving him a two minute head start…" His beefy neck cracked as he focused on the outspoken redhead. "But now, to deal with you…"

Wendy gulped and took a step back as Leslie cupped his hands and bellowed down at ringside. "Hey, boss!"

Vic Macallan, still waiting at ringside for his bounty to be claimed, followed the shout aimed at him. He saw Wilks using his thumb to single out Wendy. "You think you can shut her up? She's getting on my nerves!"

After a split second of thought, Macallan snapped his fingers. He spun around to one of his many technicians and pointed at the cage. "Turn the electricity on…"

The worker hesitated, "But sir, what about the girl – "

The promoter grabbed the hapless employee by the collar, "I said, do it, dammit!"

*BUZZZZZZZZ!*

"WHOA!" Wendy hopped up as the metal grating of her cage instantly grew dangerously hot. Tempting fate, she slowly tested the new trap by tapping the edge with her index finger, resulting in an explosive spray of shocks.

"OW! OW! OW!" She stuck her singed digit in her mouth to ease the pain. Seeking shelter from the running current, Wendy was forced into a near-standstill in the center of the cage; her emerald eyes searching endlessly for a refuge for this new torment.

 _"Can this night get any crazier, CA?!"_

 _"I certainly hope not, Ty. It looks like both of our protagonists have their hands fill. I still can't believe that that madman activated the electrical trap around the cage! Luckily, our lady friend's oversized footwear is her saving grace."_

 _"Her foot – what are in the world are you garbling about?"_

 _"Think like what an electrician wears, Hoss. The rubber soles in those boots are the only things preventing that girl from receiving shock after shock. So, as long as she stays away from the sides or the floor of the cage – "_

 _"-she'll be safe! Gee, CA! You know all this scientific stuff and you choose to call wrestling for a living?"_

The elder laughed and shuffled the papers on the desk. _"I get paid more here. Plus, the pension's nice…"_

 _"But now, the question is, how long can she stay standing still for?"_

Sitting just out of earshot, Mabel hopped to her knees on her foldable chair. "Hey!" She waved towards the play-callers. "Announcer-guys! I know her! Wendy can definitely do it! She works the cash register at my Grunkle's shop!"

CA gave her a nod of appreciation, _"Folks, we have just received word from an insider that the young woman trapped inside that electrified cell has experience as a cashier, meaning that she's probably used to being on her feet for long periods of time."_

However, high above the rest of the world, Dipper knew the truth, considering his crush's lethargic lifestyle. _"Wendy doesn't have a prayer. Half the time she cashiers, she ends up taking catnaps or reading magazines on her stool, yet alone standing for hours on end. I gotta get her out of there before her legs give out…"_

Dipper looked back to see that Wilks was prompted to give chase after him. He stretched his biceps and clasped his hands together, "Ready or not…"

Attempting to flee the fearsome predator, the tiny sleuth tried to pull himself up and over the hanging table, only to feel something pull him back by the ankle.

"Huh? What gives?" Dipper glanced down to see that his left foot had become snagged by a loose cable trailing from the middle table. He strained and tugged at his leg, finding that the cord's hold twisted and turned with his every movement.

"Come on!" The ensnared boy jolted his trapped limb back and forth. "C'mon!" Dipper peeked over his shoulder to see that Leslie was backing up to begin his charge. At mid-table, he leapt onto the front end with both feet, using it like a poolside springboard.

"HERE I COME!"


	5. Chapter 5

Dipper shrieked out loud as the beast flew towards him with open arms; his tongue licking his dried lips like a predator descending upon a cornered prey. With one final jerk, Dipper's foot was freed, and he swiftly rushed to safety on top of the rightmost table. As Dipper lied prone in exhaustion, Wilks had collided with the dangling piece, sending shockwaves across the makeshift platform. The villain began to ascend upwards when a sudden, ear-deafening noise forced him to look away from his goal:

*SNAP!*

Before Leslie Wilks could react, the damage had been done. His added weight was the breaking point of the cords attaching the two tables together. All ties to the middle portion broke out, sending it and the dazed gladiator spiraling to the mat dozens of feet below.

*KA-POW!*

Dipper awoke from his stress-induced state and flipped over to see the damage beneath him. A mass of wrestlers circled around the now broken-in-half table. Under it, they could see the muscular hand of Leslie Wilks trying to rise up, only to fall flat to the earth with a reverberating groan.

 _"This is unbelievable, CA! How lucky can this boy be? First, he is saved from plummeting to the ground, then, survives a brush with both of the Beat 'Em Up Bandits, and even escapes being annihilated by Leslie Wilks!"_

 _"I wouldn't call it luck, Ty! If that kid was lucky, he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. No, in my humble opinion – "_

 _"Oh, brother. Here we go again…"_

 _"-it was the foolhardiness of those men believing that might equals right. They played around, thinking that they had no chance of failing in their goal, and it was that same carelessness that caused each to do so. Yet, the same can't be said that young man. He had his eye on the prize since the very first moment he was dragged into this. Like I said before, Hoss: love can bring out the extraordinary in the very ordinary!"_

Mabel spoke up yet again from her seat at ringside and scoffed, "Oh, brother. Don't you know half the story?"

Having his curiosity peaked, CA made an unusual offer to the tween. _"Then, perhaps, would you care to share the rest with us?"_

The brunette jumped in her seat. She turned her head back and forth to find the source of the call, "W-Who said that?"

 _"I did, miss."_

The kindly announcer opened his arm towards an empty seat at the Announcer's Table. _"Since you seem to have all of this "insider information," I would like to invite you to call the rest of tonight's event."_

Mabel squealed at the offer, flashing a metal-braced smile at she wiggled her tiny fists in excitement. She looked up at the guard watching over her for permission. The man lowered his gaze from attention and simply shrugged. "Wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen tonight…"

With that, the twelve year old took off with lightning speed towards her new digs.

 _"CA, are you sure this is a good idea?"_

 _"Sure I'm sure, Hoss!"_ His partner reassured as Mabel adjusted the over-the-ear headset given to her by the nearest stagehand. _"We need that extra something to get the inside-scoop on what this mess of all about! And for that, folks following along at home, I am honored to present to you for the very first time, our secret abettor– "_

Using her best bravado voice, a windfall exploded from the pixie's lungs, " _This is Marvelous Mabel, coming at you lucky ladies and gents live from the OCW at ringside. But the question still remains: will our daring and dashing Dipper be able to rescue his wondrous and always wonderful Wendy? We're bound to find out in the next few moments!"_

The Tyrant, struck in shock of his mouthy new cohort. He leaned over to his partner and whispered in his ear. _"I'd hate to admit it, CA, but she's so good, it's scary…"_

 _"Just roll with it, Ty. Now, young lady, you seem to have a great deal of knowledge of this situation outside of the OCW universe. Perhaps, you can shed a little light for us and fill in the blanks of the story?"_

Mabel gave the man a gentle love tap on his back, _"Glad to, CA, my man. The vest-wearing dork is Dipper, my twin brother. The lumberjack princess in the cage is Wendy, his secret crush."_

 _"Welp! I don't think it's a secret anymore, CA!"_

She waved a careless hand, _"Oh, relax. The truth is that everyone already knows. Even Wendy herself. Only Dipper thinks that it's secret."_

 _"That's kinda cute, in a sad way. Does she at least like him back?"_

Mabel lobbed her hand side to side. _"Kinda. The age difference weirds her out at times – "_

 _"Really? If anything, one would think it would be the height. Heck, the little dwarf would be a step-stool to reach her – "_

 _"Ty! PG-Show, remember?!"_

 _"Oops…"_

 _"Relax, fellas. Me and the rest of the family always poke fun at the whole "Wendy/Dipper" thing. It's always good for a laugh!"_ Mabel paused for a moment as she thought. _"Speaking of, there's no way those two can hear us, right?"_

 _"No, ma'am."_

 _"Oh, okay then. So, back to what I was saying before…"_

* * *

"Ugh…"

Dipper's eyes could only see the blurred lights shining down from the ceiling above him. An annoying buzzing noise filled his clogged ears. He blinked repeatedly as a new form materialized in the distance. Wendy was shouting from the middle of her cage. Despite using her hands as an amplifier, her partner in crime was still unable to hear her voice as it was muffled by the humming sound growing louder with every passing second.

"It's the electrical barrier!" Dipper realized. "It's getting stronger and stronger by the minute! I have to reach that door before Wendy gets shocked again!"

With time running out, the determined admirer followed Leslie Wilks's example and hopped to the metal railing of the scaffolding. Knowing that he didn't have the pure strength to use the varying levels of support to make it all the way to the top of the framework, he skipped from the beam and onto the first table of the middle row, missing his mark by several inches.

"Ooof! Not again!" As Dipper fought to pull him upwards, a mighty, yet filthy hand shot out and seized his shirt, placing him safely on the table. The boy let out a deep exhale, and raised his sights to offer his gratitude. "Oh, man. I don't know what to say – "

His voice became lost as he gazed upon the twisted visage of his rescuer. _The man's face was covered with a crude mask made up of random sizes straps and belts. Dirty, stringy hair clung to the left side. His pudgy body was covered in a tattered white office shirt and a simple pair of brown stretch pants. A twisted, oversized red tie was hung around the wrestler's neck, although Dipper couldn't tell if it was its natural color._

 _Oddly enough, a worn-out sock was placed over his left hand as a puppet. The faded away eyes, nose, and mouth drawn on it easily gave Dipper the shivers._

"I – I – I…"

The man smiled and sat back, "Think nothing of it, my friend. We outcasts have to watch out for each other."

"We?!"

He nodded, "That's right, that's right." He pulled his arm back towards the audience. "You hear them, don't you?"

Dipper was confused by the random mumbling. "Who are you talking - ?"

"THEM, YOU FOOL!" His kindly nature had been replaced with pure hysteria. "DON'T YOU HEAR THEM SCREAMING FOR YOUR BLOOD?! THEY WANT YOU TO FAIL!" He pounded his chest, "LIKE HOW THEY WANT ME TO FAIL!"

Dipper held his hands up and tried to diffuse the tension, "It's okay. I getcha. Let's just try – "

The stranger hopped to his knees, making Dipper step back further. "DON'T YOU PATRONIZE ME! I'M NOTHING MORE THAN A HUMAN BLIGHT ON THIS WORLD! AND JUST AS I'VE BEEN BETRAYED, SO HAVE YOU, MY YOUNG FELLOW!"

"Betrayed?" Dipper asked. "But, by who?"

The combatant calling himself the Human Blight laughed as much as his mask would allow. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

 _"So, let me get this straight, missy. You say that these two don't date – "_

 _"Not officially, no…"_

 _"…but they spend almost all their free time together when not at work?"_

 _"Well, when I'm not in the mix. But now that you mention it, I've never seen Wendy spend as much time with a boy her age as she does Dipper…"_

A somewhat jealous Mad Tyrant threw his hands down in dismay, " _What's with kids today, CA? I know darn well I didn't have a "Movie Night" with an older woman at twelve years old! Hell, I'm lucky if I'm able to do so today!"_ He noticed that his partner's gaze was focused upwards. _"Hey CA?! You listening?"_

He shook his head _, "And not to interrupt your "Love Connection," but we do have a match happening here."_

Mabel squint her eyes to get a better look, _"Who's that up there with Dipper?"_

 _"The better question is "Who does he think he is today…""_

Growing more uneasy with each passing moment, Dipper tried to excuse himself from the situation. Walking pass the Human Blight ever so slightly, he pointed up towards Wendy. "I'm not trying to be rude, but you know what they say about keeping a girl waiting…"

He went towards the next table, the given silence serving as a symbol of safe passage, until he heard the Blight called after him in a sing-song tone. "I wouldn't go that way if I were you…"

Dipper raised his sights towards the next layer of hung tables, spotting that the lowest one set was on the opposite side – making it the best bet for an easy ascent. He ignored the advice and hopped onto the middle table, planting his footing to standing against the slight swaying. As soon as Dipper reached the edge, the whole arena turned pitch black. The hardcore fans exploded with a roar of cheers.

"What's happening?!" Dipper tried to find his way through the dark, not daring to move a muscle. "What's going on now?!"

An eerie tune blared through the speakers, reminding Dipper of the old-fashion organ-music that he would hear during those terrible B-horror movies that he and Wendy would laugh and poke fun at.

*KA-BOOM*

The ring below Dipper erupted like a volcano, shaking the table beneath his feet. Fireballs flew out of the top of each ring post and into the sky, blanketing the pitch dark with a shade of blood red. Within that, he spotted a horrific sight waiting for him on the other end of the series of platforms.

 _An extremely tall being draped in black and red stood at the center of the last table, blocking Dipper's path to the next level. The disturbing neon light blanketing him made it appear as if his costume was made of living fire. His face was covered by a plain mask; dark, soulless beams peered out from the black eyeholes. His long black hair traveled past his broad shoulders._

The flames lowered back into the ring's corners, and yet the stage was still covered in crimson. Dipper's fright grew as the mysterious entity silently walked in his direction.

"Who – Who's this guy?"

The Human Blight answered from the table behind him, "Oh, that's Abel. Molded and framed in fire when he was a child. Some say in the forges of Hell itself. Has a really, really bad temper." He pulled his ruined shirt proudly. "I know that from experience…"

"Lucky me…"

Dipper's brown eyes widened as the fingers on Abel's right hand began to glow a bright orange. Within a split second, the monster flicked forward, launching a fireball in his direction.

"BAH!" The much smaller adventurer dropped to a prone position and covered his head. A nearly scream prompted Dipper to opened his fingers to see what had happened. To his horror, he watched as the Human Blight fell from his position; a haunting scream following the unfortunate soul into the darkness below.

"Ohnonono!" Dipper pulled himself back from the edge to confront the ever-growing danger. Abel carefully made the switch from the end table to the center where his target currently presided. Hopping back to his feet, Dipper went take a step back, finding nothing but dead air. As he was about fall, a new hand was pressed against his back to halt his descent.

"How in the – "

"Think nothing of it, groovy cat! Brothers like us gotta stick together, ya dig?"

Dipper followed the familiar tone, "What?! But how did – "

 _A wrestler donning torn tie dye clothing sat at Dipper's side. The overweight fighter's flowing mane was tied back with a matching bandanna. Dusty, vintage shades were hoisted against the man's sweaty brow. He flashed a toothless smile that made Dipper swallow his disgust._

But the oddest thing of all was that Dipper could have sworn that this was the same person who presented himself as the Human Blight moments before.

"Hold on! Aren't you – "

"That's right, my main man!" All of the angst and social frustration was missing from his husky voice, instead replaced with positivity and cheerfulness. "The Hippie King, at your service!"

 _"So, is Dipper right? Is that new guy the same as the one in the belt-masky-thingie?"_

The two announcers looked at each other before trying to answer her question.

 _"Um, I think – well, it's a bit complicated, isn't it, CA?"_

 _"It might be best to just watch what happens, darling. It'll be easier to understand this way…"_

Dipper looked past the kindly guardian to see that the monstrous Abel cocked his head back from a puzzled state. He went on with his pursuit, forcing the junior high schooler back to the first table. Now trapped on the far end, Dipper looked around with any sort of exit. Even Wendy had vanished from sight as she had become hidden away in the dark above.

 _"What am I going to do now?"_

*BONG!*

The entire arena returned to pitch black as the crowd applauded even louder. Dipper remained at a standstill, unaware of what else would slither out from the nether.

*BONG!*

Another ring of what sounded like a gong rocked the stadium as random screams and shouts rose up from below. Dipper was finally given some light as a glowing blue-purplish mist appeared from nowhere and surrounded his ankles. It drifted across to the middle table and towards Abel, making the colossus stop in his tracks.

 _"A fog?"_ Dipper questioned. "All the way up here? But that's impossible!"

He tried to step out from the unknown miasma, crashed into a solid mass from behind. Dipper looked up to see what he bumped, instantly losing his voice at the sight.

"But – But – But – But – "

 _A second titan materialized from out of the shadows. While the same size as Abel, this man was dressed in gothic attire; his wrinkled outfit resembling that of a deceased mortician. His lengthy hair was tucked beneath a round, felt black hat_ _ **.**_

Dipper shook in his sneakers as the apparent menace lowered his goateed, pasty face downwards. His eyes turned a bright white as they rolled into the back of his head.

"BAH!"

 _"From the depths of the underworld, Ty! He's here! The Bogeyman has finally come back to the OCW!"_

 _"Jeez, you think that he could have cleaned himself up for such an occasion. He looks like the living dead!"_

 _"He might as well be, Ty. The Master of the Macabre doesn't take his title lightly."_

 _"Hey, guys. This may sound weird, but those two big guys kinda look alike…"_

 _"Quite the keen eye there, young lady. Those two brutes are actually brothers."_

 _"Get out!"_

 _"I will not, little lady! But it's true. Even though they're blood-related, Bogeyman and Abel were born in different spectrums of the dark – one in the pale moonlight and the other in the blazes of heck! They couldn't be any more different than night and day!"_

 _"And yet, you have to ask whose side are they on? Maybe if Abel actually gets that kid and wins that prize pot, maybe he can finally afford to buy a personality!"_

 _"Hey!"_

 _"Ty, his sister is sitting right here!"_

 _"And…?"_

Dipper went back and forth between the two, finding that there was no place left to flee to.

"I'm trapped! There's no way I – "

His sights lit up again as a strange flow stemmed from the Bogeyman's fingertips. A swirling shadow spiraled endlessly in a circular pattern; a projectile of pure darkness and pitch black.

"Oh no! Not again!" Dipper went to duck when the gladiator gently shoved him to the side, well out of harm's way. The Bogeyman issued a simple, but incredibly grim warning:

"MOVE…"

He swiped his hand outward, releasing the dark energy towards his sibling at high speed. Acting without any sense of concern , Abel jabbed his arm up, deflecting the strange missile away from him and towards the metal scaffolding, creating a vibrating *KLANK!* in the distance.

"But how – " Dipper couldn't understand what he just saw, or even heard. "Their attacks – it's not special effects; _they're real?!"_

His inner worries came to a stop as the Bogeyman placed a mighty hand on Dipper's shoulder. His body trembled from top to bottom at the touch. He followed the trunk-like arm upwards as the demonic brawler tucked his head downward.

"STAY…"

With that, the Bogeyman walked pass Dipper and onto the middle table. His brother stepped in stride to match until the warriors were face-to-face. They stared at each other with utter contempt and hatred – the result of an endless rivalry that spanned decades.

 _"Remarkable! The Bogeyman – that legendary specter that looms over the OCW – has decided to align himself with the forces of good and stand before his sinister brother and protect our young friend up there!"_

 _"Now I've seen everything, CA! That ghastly freak serving as bodyguard to two teenagers? Maybe it's him trying to ruin Abel's fun?"_

 _"Well, whatever reason there is, I know one thing for sure: if those two are about to duke it out, it's definitely gonna be awesome!"_

 _"Right, you are, Marvelous Mabel…"_

Still sitting in the middle of the stand-off, the Hippie King placed an empathic hand on each man's thigh. "Now, hold on there, groovy dudes! There's no reason in partake in all of this messy violence, man. What we need to do now is to talk things out and find a peaceful solution…"

The entire crowd groaned collectively at the passive proposition. Without breaking eye-contact, both brothers took a hand and pressed against the soft-hearted beatnik, sending him flying off of the table with a grunt.

 _"Oh! There he goes! Again!"_

 _"Are you two sure that hippie was the same guy as before?"_

 _"Trust me, my dear. I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of him just yet…"_

The arena's lighting was now a mixture of their trademark purple and red shades; each side serving as the drawn battle lines. Suddenly, everything went dark. White flashes of lightning filled the sky, making Dipper drop down on the table to avoid being struck. He could only hope Wendy would fare better, despise being entrapped in a metal chamber.

 _"Hey, I can't see a thing! What's happening up there?"_

 _"Look! In between the flashes!"_

Dipper raised his head to see that every time the lightning struck, he could make out both Abel and the Bogeyman trading blows. As time passed, the boy spotted a new figure rising up from the table's midsection. _His shaggy hair, mustache, and beard all connected in one greasy sum. Numerous scars and markings were etched across his forehead. A bit of his left ear was missing; a closed off curve revealing that it had been an older injury. The outsider ironically sported a cut-off black T-Shirt with a mocked-up wanted poster with his own portrait on it, beneath the printed text: WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE._

But Dipper froze as the man turned towards him and flashed a familiar smile of missing teeth, making the amateur detective question reality further. "It can't be!"

 _"Wait, there's someone else up there with the other guys. He – He kinda looks like a phony criminal that you'd see in an old-timey cowboy movie…"_

 _"Young lady, I'd like you to meet Cowskull Pete, the third, and most insane personality of the wrestler called Ham Clarke."_

 _"Ham Clarke? Who's that?"_

 _"I'll take this one, CA. Hamilton Clarke grew up always wanting to be a world-famous superstar. Problem with that is that he used to practice by throwing himself off of his garage numerous times a day."_

 _"Oh! Okay, I get it! It's like cartoons where you keep hitting someone on the head, and they become a different person each time!"_

 _"Exactly! But that's why Cowskull Pete isn't the kind of person you want to bump into in a dark alley. He is the living embodiment of everything blood-soaked and hardcore. If there's extreme violence involved in the OCW, Pete usually isn't too far behind!"_

Dipper gasped aloud as Cowskull Pete rose up and grabbed both Abel and the Bogeyman by the chest. He glanced back at the stunned adolescent and shouted as he pulled the two goliaths off from the table in a kamikaze attack:

"HAVE A GREAT DAY!"

*KA-BOOM!*

One final bolt of lightning struck the middle tables, forcing Dipper to turn away and shield his eyes. He could still hear the screaming of the fans ringing in his ears. When he opened his eyes, the regular lights had come back on. All three fighters had vanished from sight, returning into the ether from whence they came. The only remaining sign of their struggle was a series of burn marks across the lay of the table.

Not wanting to wait for more trouble to catch up, Dipper leapt from table to table to reach the end of the scaffolding. He went to avoid his mistake from last time, scaling a little higher to make the jump to the final row of tables. Dipper hesitated for a moment, the height difference bringing him back on edge.

With a gulp, Dipper let go of the bar he clung to and let gravity take its course. He smacked the wooden finish and rolled towards the edge, throwing his hands down to stop himself from falling.

"Ow-Ow-Ow!" The adventurer shook his sore palms repeatedly. "Hope I didn't catch a splinter…"

With the lights restored, Dipper was able to see Wendy pacing endlessly in the locked cell with her arms crossed her flannel chest. A sense of dread and worry splashed was across her freckled face. The buzz of the electrical field still prevented any contact between the two.

By mere chance, the ginger looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that her attempted liberator was a step closer to springing her from Macallan's trap. She turned around and tried to shout down to him, only to have her message blocked by the endless zapping surrounding her.

Dipper stood on the balls of his feet and tried to yell back, "Wendy, I can't hear you!"

She continued to try to over-shout the electricity, going frustrated by the second until she suddenly stopped. Her expression turned utterly serious and alarmed. She pulled back from her hunched state and rapidly waved her arms back and forth. Her cheeks became a streamed red as she screamed more and more.

"Wendy?!" Dipper tried again to hear his sweetheart's message. "What's wrong? What do you see?!"

A primal, almost animal-like shout came from the heaven, making Dipper spin around in reflex. A huge shadow blocked all traces of light. A brawny wrestler fell from the upper scaffolding walkway with his arms raised over his head. In his hands, a long-neck sledgehammer was aimed directly at the unsuspecting youngster.

"AAH!" Dipper immediately leapt to the middle platform as the heavy-tip of the hammer crashed into the table with a sickening *KRAK!* He overlooked the newest attacker as the man struggled to free his weapon from the cave-in.

 _The grappler's long blond hair covered his face, save for his long, bird-like nose and bits of stubble on his chin. He stood bare-chested, with tattoos of the letter "R" wrapped around each biceps. Unlike his fellow co-workers, his outfit was very simple, consisting of plain black boots and a matching pair of briefs. On them, an unique symbol of four Rs meeting at the center was plastered across every inch._

"Oh, man…" Dipper used his hands to backpedal away from danger. "What's this maniac's problem?"

With another pull, the assailant was able to wrench his weapon from the rubble. He lowered the sledgehammer back into his hands and approached the edge of the table.

"You little son-of-a-bitch! You want to make a mockery of this sport – of _my livelihood_?!" He threw the hammer back into the air. "I'll be more than happy to teach you some manners!"

"Wait!" Dipper held his hands up, "You can't – I thought you guys had to toss me off this thing to get the prize or something like that?"

The aggressor shrugged, "I'm sure the old man could care less about how I get rid of you, as long as you're gone. It might be hard to believe, punk, but money is no object to me! What's happening now – me and you – _it's personal!"_

"But – " Dipper interrupted again. "I don't even know who you are!"

He instantaneously saw red. "Well, let me help you out then. When people ask you, "Who broke your legs?" make sure to say _"Quadruple R did it!""_

 _"Quadruple R?! What's that guy's deal? And why does he have it out for Dipper – I mean, beyond the obvious answer?"_

 _"That, young lady, is Raging Richter Reginald Reynolds, or as the world knows him, Quadruple R. He originally was the leader of the "High-School Rejects," a band of misfit wrestlers that plagued the OCW years ago."_

 _"And that tag-team that first fell though the tables trying to catch your brother? The Beat 'Em Up Bandits? They're kinda like the right hand henchman for Quadruple R."_

 _"Oh, it's a revenge thing?"_

 _"It's much more than that, I'm afraid. A lot of folks may not know this, but Quadruple R is actually Mr. Macallan's son-in-law."_

 _"Really?"_

 _"Scout's honor. In a manner of speaking, one day he'll most likely inherit this empire that Mr. Macallan created with his own two hands, and be the one to make sure it continues to thrive."_

 _"So if this guy believes Dipper reaching Wendy will destroy the business…"_

 _"…then, he won't waver in squashing him like a bug!"_

Quadruple R slammed his mallet down on the far end of the middle table, sending Dipper up into the air. As he slid down the raised table, he spotted the enraged attacker waiting at the other end, taking practice swings with his gigantic gavel. With a yelp, Dipper dug his nails into the old wood and shifted his weight. The table lopped to the other side, blocking the view of Quadruple R and allowing safe passage to the last table on the row.

"Hey! Get back here!"

Without as much as looking behind him, Dipper skipped from the final table and back into the iron rods of the scaffolding, using them as a hand-and-foot holds to make it back to the top of the metal platform. As he pulled himself upward, something reached out and grabbed him by the ankle. Dipper tightened his grip on the iron bars, glancing down to see that Quadruple R was trying to pull him back down to his level.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" The wrestler held on to the struggling foot with no effort; his sledgehammer remained in his other hand. "You still have an ass-kicking comin' to you…"

With his grasp slipping further, Dipper moaned and looked up to see that Wendy stood at the far end of her cage, waiting on edge to see how he could probably escape from this predicament. The sense of worry could be still found on her face. Lowering his head in shame, a great sorrow filled Dipper's being until he looked back at Wendy.

Her reaction had changed; she now presented a smile. Her green eyes shined like emeralds, glimmering with hope and anticipation. Her curled fists shook in conjunction as her lips silently moved, repeating an unknown set of phrases over and over like a chant.

After a minute, Dipper realized what was happening: _"She's cheering – she's cheering me on. Even when I don't believe it myself, Wendy still has faith in me…"_

He stared back at Quadruple R, _"I can't let her down…"_ He hoisted his free foot backwards. _"I won't!"_

*POW!*

"Get off me, you big-nosed freak!"

Dipper delivered a swift kick square into Quadruple R's nose, catching the superstar off-guard. The brute stumbled backwards and slipped off of the table. He reached up and caught the end of the table to stop from plummeting back to earth.

Now free, Dipper made the last jump to the top of the scaffold. Only a few yards of thin walkway stood between him and the ladder leading directly to the entrance of Wendy's cell. Once he knew that she could see him, Dipper tried to signal her. He pointed at his eyes, and made a swirling motion with his index finger.

Using her height as an advantage, Wendy searched the area around Dipper's location for any sign of trouble. Figuring that the coast was cleared, she flashed her boy a thumbs up for him to carefully trailed the narrow footpath without fear or effort, and reached the ladder going upwards.

 _"This is it, folks: the home stretch. Will our young hero finally reach his goal and rescue his pretty lady friend before the wicked side of the OCW claim her as their own?"_

 _"I hope so, CA! I feel like this story has been going on for months now! Let's wrap it up already!"_

 _"C'mon, Dipper! You can do it! You're almost there!"_

At long last, Dipper found himself in front of the massive cell. He stood on a small extension leading up to the grated door, where Wendy awaited her release.

"Hey, there…" She greeted him with a sly grin.

"H-H-Hey…yourself…" The fact that he could finally Wendy's voice again shed a layer of stress from Dipper's psyche. With a careful touch, he tapped the door of the cell, finding that it wasn't electrified like the other sections of the cage. He placed both hands on the massive handgrip and tried to pull it downwards. "D-Don't worry! I'll have you outta there in a jiffy!"

"Good to hear, Dip." She bent her knees slightly to relief the pressure in her gangly legs. "No offense to you, but my dogs are barking big time!"

*C-C-C-CREAK!*

Dipper could feel the lever starting to give.

"Almost…have…it…"

Just as the door began to slide open, a huge form dropped down from the top of the cage, landing between Dipper and Wendy, who remained trapped behind the steel bars. The dazed hero found that he once again found himself before a much-bruised, yet incredibly angered Quadruple R. Breathing deep, the maniac still clutched his sledgehammer in his gloved hands. His dark eyes burned with pure scorn for the child before him.

"No!" The lumberjane couldn't reach the door in time as it became relocked, leaving her helpless to do nothing but watch the events unfold.

 _"This can't be! They were so close! But how?!"_

 _"Look at his hands, Ty! He played it smart. Those kids thought danger could only come from below, but never from above! Those gloves allowed Quadruple R to scale the cage, and I'll bet dollars to donuts that his boots are made of the same stuff as that redhead's!"_

Out of reflex, Dipper went to turn away from the danger as Quadruple R quickly snatched him up using the handle of the hammer. He gagged loudly as the grip pressed directly against his jugular. The villain held Dipper against his body as he whispered into his ear.

"I'll give you this: you're a lot tougher than you look. But in the end, your best wasn't enough. This pathetic little game ends here and now!" His voice grew even darker. _"But don't you worry about your girlfriend. We'll take care of her. After all, a cute little thing like her? Someone like that can be good for a million different things…"_

Enraged, Dipper snarled aloud as he struggled for freedom. However, Quadruple R's hold was simply too much for him. The world blurred as he grew lightheaded. It became harder and harder to breath.

From the other side of the cage, Wendy could see that Dipper's fidgeting was starting to slow. His chubby cheeks were becoming a shade of blue. She knew that she couldn't let this happen.

 _"But what can I do while I'm stuck in here?"_

A desperate idea sprung to mind. It would require pin-point accuracy to pull off, but at the same time, it would be their last chance to bring their nightmare to an end.

Running on pure determination, Wendy rolled up her green-flannel sleeves and moved as close to the cage's door as she could without risking being shocked. In her mind, she carefully lined up the narrow holes between the metal grate and prayed that she was slim enough to pull this off.

Wendy watched as Dipper's legs gave out, as he came even closer to unconsciousness. Without a second thought, the brave teenager stuck her bare arms though the spaces of the cage and took ahold of Quadruple R from behind.

"What the – " The surprised pugilist dropped her cohort as he was pulled against the cage. Wendy turned her face away as thousands of volts flowed into Quadruple R's body, creating dozens of live sparks and making the lights hanging above the arena flicker on and off.

*BBBBBBBZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!*

After a few seconds, Wendy released the half-alive bully, bringing him to his knees. With justice finally served, she prided over a job well done.

"A word to the wise, you 'roided –up freak: _Cordurory 3:16 says "No one lays a hand on my dork and gets away with it!""_

Now out cold, the lifeless body of Quadruple R swayed from side to side until he began to tumble from the slender passageway. His momentum caused the inanimate Dipper to follow suit down after him.

 _"Oh, dear heavens! They're falling! They're both dropping to their doom!"_

"No! Dipper!" Wendy shouted as the bodies fell back to the lower levels of the arena. She grabbed the back of her head as pure panic overtook her. "Oh no! No! No!" She covered her face with her hands, not wanting to see the messy aftermath of her actions. "What did I do?! What did I just do?!"

*CAW!*

The cry of a bird brought Wendy to a standstill

*CAW!*

She spread her fingers from her eyes; the spectacle before her took her breath away.

"But – But how – "

 _To her amazement, a new scuffler floated before the edge of the pathway with Dipper safely cradled against his chest. The man looked up from the child in his arm and his dark brown eyes pierced Wendy's soul. His long hair was curled into a black spoof. His face was painted a solid white, save for black circles and streaks that traveled from his eye sockets. The rest of his body was covered in a thick, onyx slicker. A long, sturdy bungie cord stretching down from the arena's rafters had been attached to his back._

 _"Hey, that weird-looking guy saved Dipper! He's okay!"_

 _"Look, Ty! It's Scorp! When the OCW needed him most, he came down from the heavens to bring evil-doers to their knees and save the innocent from the sinful and wicked!"_

 _"But this old gag, CA? To be honest, I really miss "Surfer-Scorp" from back in the day…"_

Scorp carefully set Dipper back onto his feet. Still a bit groggy, he took a few steps and turned around to face his redeemer. The enigmatic icon slid a slicked baseball bat down from his jacket's sleeve and into his empty glove. In fear of another fight, Dipper's body began to tense up in careful anticipation of what was coming next.

To his surprise, Scorp raised his arm, retaining his self-imposed vow of silence, and used his bat as a pointer. Dipper followed the direction, finding that it led back to Wendy still waiting for him at the cage's door.

He rushed to her side, only to pause halfway. Dipper looked over his shoulder, "I probably should have said this sooner, but thank you…"

Scorp nodded in response, his blackened lips slowly curling into a partial smile.

Using both hands, Dipper tugged on the heavy latch before him until he could hear a soft popping sound. Finally, the door of the cage began to crack. Dipper threw it open with a slam, and darted into the cell. The buzzing of the electrical current had died as soon as he stepped foot inside.

As if they knew what the other was thinking, Wendy knelt down and opened her arms, catching her drained friend as he tightly wrapped himself around her mid-section. A close up of their long-awaited reunion was displayed over the videotron as the audience cheered on their happy ending.

*BING!* *BING!* *BING!* *BING!*

 _"It's over! That crazy kid did it! He overcame a gauntlet of the OCW's best and released his redheaded main squeeze from Mr. Macallan's contact!"_

 _"And listen to that crowd, CA! I've never seen anything like it! A constant rollercoaster of emotions seen tonight as those two rose from being despised and detested to becoming the unofficial OCW sweethearts. Heck, I'm even seeing babies getting tossed in the air!"_ The Mad Tyrant laughed, _"I knew they would make it through the entire time!"_

Both CA and Mabel turned towards the gloating announcer in disgust.

 _"Mr. Tyrant. You do know we've been here the entire time with you, right?"_

 _"And?"_

After what seemed like an eternity, Wendy pulled back from Dipper while still maintaining her hold, "Are you alright?"

"Me?" Dipper motioned with his head. "I'm okay, thanks that that guy – "

*CAW!*

He looked back to see that the man had disappeared; a black crow stood in his place at the edge of the cage's ledge. It bucked its head towards Dipper and Wendy before flapping its wings and flying off into the distance.

"Wha – " Dipper turned towards Wendy. "How did he – "

Wendy patted his shoulders in support, "It's Scorp, Dip. It's kinda his thing…"

He shook his head clear, "What about you? How are you feeling?"

"I'm hanging in there." She smirked. "I mean, my hands are a bit sore, and it feels like the bottoms of my feet are gonna melt, but besides that, I'm good."

The two chuckled at Wendy's bluntness for a moment or two before the joy faded from Dipper's face.

"Listen, Wendy. I'm – I'm really sorry about earlier. I was being stupid, and – "

Before he could finish, she placed a finger against his lips to hush him. "Sshh…"

"But, Wendy – "

"Dipper," she beamed. "It doesn't matter anymore. _You're here, aren't you?_ I got myself in trouble, and you came through all of this for me. Isn't that what's truly important?"

 _"Ohh! You guys!"_

 _*SOB!*_

 _"Ty, are you – are you crying?"_

 _"Please, somebody cut my mike. I need a moment here…"_

"Y-Yeah…" he forced a nervous laugh, "I guess it is, isn't it?"

Wendy stood back up, "About time you start listening to me…"

As Dipper followed suit, he noticed a disturbing new detail, "Um, Wendy? I think we got a problem…"

"Dipper, don't say – what happened now?"

He pointed at their exit. The door had closed behind him as he entered the cage. "I think we're locked in…"

"No biggie…" Wendy shooed away his worry and walked to the door. "All you need to open this baby from this end is to pop these clasps open …" With a twist of her wrists, the cashier was able to reopen their escape. "…and bingo! We're home free!"

"But I thought the door could only be opened from the outside…"

She spun back around to see Dipper standing with a doubting appearance on his face. His arms were folded across his front as he awaited her answer.

"Uh…" Wendy was caught unaware by her devotee's question. "I – I mean – "

"Wendy," Dipper stepped forward to confront his crush. "How did you know how to open the door?"

She shrunk down and appeared sheepish, "Well, I watched – no, those guys that grabbed me – what I meant to say is – "

"It's been open the whole time, hasn't it?"

Wendy broke eye-contact as she attempted to find a valid excuse. "Um…"

"I can't believe this!" Dipper stormed up and down the cage in outrage.

 _"Neat! This is like that extra after-credits scene you'd see in the movies! But in wrestling!"_

 _"What a total debacle! This is the biggest screwjob I've seen since Montreal!"_

 _"CA, it's been twenty years. You have to let that one go…"_

 _"Never, Ty. Never!"_

"Dipper…" Wendy tried to find the right words to reach her companion as he continued to pace his stress away. "I didn't mean – if you let me explain – "

He stopped on a dime and finally confronted her, "I just don't get it. If you could leave at any time, then why didn't you?"

Wendy placed her hands on his shoulders and flashed a grin, hoping her charm could get her out of trouble. "But I wouldn't be much of a "damsel in distress" if I escaped, now would I?"

"What?"

"That was the deal I made with Vic, Dip." Wendy began to explain. "The only way that he wouldn't press charges if I promised to help him make a show that the world would never forget. I didn't have a choice!"

Dipper placed his hands on hers. "But all the crazy wrestlers, and Soos getting involved, and – "

"I had no idea about Soos. Honest! And to be fair, I don't think Vic did either. And I know you got beat up and thrown around for my sake. That was the one term that I made him swear to. He "assured" me that by show's end, you and I would be able to walk out of this place unharmed."

Dipper aimed his sights towards the arena's flooring as Wendy's phrasing reminded him of something he heard earlier. Vic Macallan stood triumphant at ringside, basking in all of the excitement and applause generated by the countless fans surrounding him in the crowd. He opened his arms and shrugged his shoulders at Dipper before disappearing into a cloud of smoke. When the vapor cleared, the devil was nowhere to be found.

"Still," Wendy went on. "There were tons of things I was left in the dark about too, buddy." She rubbed her tender fingers as they were reddened from the electric shocks. "But hey, we both made it through in one piece…"

Dipper didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to scream and shout for being pulled through the wringer all night. But at the same time, he remembered how his mouth started the whole mess in the first place. He was glad Wendy was safe, but did the ends justify the means?

The unwanted silence preyed on Wendy's conscience. "C'mon, Dipper…" She bent down on one knee to meet him at eye-level. "After everything that's happened tonight, don't be ticked off at me… _please?_ There's got to be a way to make this right…"

 _"CA, I'm confused. Was this a "shoot-work-double-cross," a "worked-shoot-double cross," or was it a "reverse-back-at-ya-double cross?"_

 _"I'm not sure, Ty, but one thing I can tell you is that this is the farthest thing from the happy ending I pictured in my mind. But whatever they do, they better make it fast. We have two minutes before our broadcast fades to black!"_

 _"Oh! It just can't end like this!"_

All of a sudden, Mabel hopped onto her chair. She chanted at the top of her lungs, so that everyone around her could hear: _"KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!"_ The girl faced the crowd standing behind her and started again, " _KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!"_

Mabel's cheer quickly spread across the stadium, and within seconds, thousands of OCW fans shouted in union for their hero and heroine to reconcile.

 _"KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! "KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!"_

Hearing the rally of the mass beneath her, Wendy rolled her eyes and looked back at Dipper. Startled, his eyes went back and forth as tried to understand what was going on. "What – What are they saying? I don't get it…"

She sighed, understanding that the wisdom of the crowd might have a point, gently held Dipper still by the hands.

"Wendy? What are you doing?"

 _"Thirty seconds!"_

"Well," Wendy moved in, "Let's just call this a reward for coming to my rescue, okay?"

The people's chorus became louder as Dipper's heart fell into his stomach. The boy couldn't believe what was happening! He saw Wendy close her eyes and pucker her lips…

 _"Fifteen seconds!"_

Dipper pushed himself up and mimicked Wendy's movements, shutting his eyes tight, and pressing his lips together. The two came closer and closer until they were mere inches away from one another…

*WHOOMP-CHUNK!*

Every light in the arena had shut off, save for a select few at ground level. People grunted and complained as they made their way from back which they came.

 _"And that's a wrap from us in the OCW Universe. As always, this is your pal, Chuck Anderson…"_

 _"And I'm Hoss "The Mad Tyrant" Taylor…_

 _"And this is Marvelous Mabel, praying that her parents aren't watching from back home!"_

 _"…thank you for joining us for tonight's show! See you next time!"_

 _( July 8_ _th_ _, 2017 – October 15_ _th_ _, 2017)_


End file.
